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lustbile · 4 years ago

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To Provoke

Incubus!HaechanxReader

Word Count: 4.4K

Warning: dom-ish haechan, semi public (alley way), oral&fingering, biting, blood consumption, & can maybe be interpreted as degrading but not really

notes: a resounding thank you to whoever gave haechan curls and horns im in love with you nct stylist person. I wrote this all today and it made me stupid so I will try to go through and do more editing. Also not that I think anyone would, but I made the edit for this, horns and all, and im asking politely no one repost it, i know it’s not the most extravagant edit but im asking u pls.

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You were trying to provoke him.

You were always trying to provoke him.

Everything you did, every move, blink, sigh, and turn was an attempt to pull him from the shadows.

To admit you’re addicted to him is embarrassing, degrading even, especially with the way it fills his chest and wild eyes with hunger and pride. His ego was one thing that never needed to grow, big enough to fill every nook and cranny of the universe, but something about the way your pretty eyes would glitter at him in awe pushed it over the edge in free fall.

The outfit you chose to wear was maybe a bit too revealing for the weather, the nipping cold dancing along your shoulders and thighs in a way that makes your stomach clench and your teeth chatter. But it was the same outfit you had worn on the night you had met him, the outfit that his greedy fingers tugged and pulled on to get access to your skin, and it still had the smallest of tears in the seem from his impatience that night.

But it got you attention, and that's what mattered in the end.

He had always had a jealous streak, something he’d deny sharply if you had the nerve to accuse him, but that didn’t change the fact that some of your best nights with him were spent after he showed up to remind you that your body and skin were for him only. And that jealousy was the exact thing you needed to get him to show his face again.

It had been far too long since you had felt him last. You had no clue where he could have possibly ran off to for such a long time, but that didn’t stop the fire that was building in your belly. And no matter how many times you tried, your own wandering hands were never enough to quench your body’s thirst like he could.

The man you spoke to at the club meant less than nothing to you, even when you felt his growing excitement pressing against your back when you agreed to dance with him. The sloppy kisses you allowed him to press against the skin of your neck felt no different than just air as your mind was too distracted by the man that had taken ownership of your heart and soul so long ago, regardless of his absence.

It didn’t feel long before the lights became too bright, the alcohol that sloshed in your cup too bitter for your tongue, and the smell of the strange man too stale and unfamiliar. But when you pushed away from his chest and checked the time on your phone, while you ignored his grumbled complaints of you being a tease, you saw that it was only a handful of minutes past midnight.

You had stayed out much longer than that before, much later in fact and with glee, but something in your chest, a heavy and daunting weight, was pulling you towards the entrance on unsteady feet and a taunting disappointment on your shoulders.

Your mind still felt muggy even after you broke away from the stuffy environment of the building, but you brushed it off as a combination of the minimal alcohol you’d consumed and the angry unsatisfied monster that had made home in your gut.

You had enough of a head on your shoulders to scan your purse for your pepper spray and pocket knife before you decided that maybe the short walk home would help clear your mind and disappointment. It was still cold, your icy fingertips begging for a uber or cab instead, but you were hoping the biting chill would help calm down whatever lustful beast you had become because of a man you couldn't even contact.

Your legs felt too heavy to carry with every step you took, your neck feeling like your necklaces were made from tons of lead instead of whatever cheap metal the random online store you had ordered them from used. You were grateful that the only company you had on the back streets you had chosen to take were the flickering street lamps and the skittering rats you could hear in each alley you passed.

You could almost taste the relief of the cheap bottles of wine you had stashed in your kitchen paired with a trashy netflix horror film when you turned onto your street, your apartment building somehow looking inviting with its old brick and foggy windows as it sat on the corner. The only thing stopping you from kicking off your heels and making a run for it being the memory of one of your less than polite neighbors dropping a large glass vase and not feeling any need to pick up the broken pieces before leaving for the day.

Instead you grit your teeth to help bear the pinching of your shoes, and break into a quick and awkward jog down the desolate stretch of sidewalk. Your eyes watering as you're met with icy air.

Peace and warmth and cheap familiar alcohol is only a few strides away when you hear it. To anyone else in the city it would have been no different than the sounds of an everyday creature scavenging in the trash for food, but you had lived here long enough to know what's a rat or raccoon or, in this case, a cat.

It was a stray you had befriended long ago, one that could climb and duck into your conveniently opened balcony door for a bowl of food and a scratch behind the ears. It was just a sweet little boy that was grey and covered with scratches and scars, but due to a no pet policy had to be kept labeled as a stray and a secret to your landlord.

You huff in frustration, assuming he would have been curled up on your couch when you returned home and not chasing rats in the alley next to your building, but he had always been mischievous from the day you met him. So with the hope that you could block his image from the security cameras, you turn and head into the dim light of the small alley.

You had lovingly dubbed him Oscar when you came home more than once to your trash can tipped over and learned he had a special love for garbage, and that name along with some weird chattering cooing left you mouth as you tried to coax him from whatever trash can he was creating chaos within.

Your teeth were already gritted and you back stiff as the playful feline found enjoyment in jumping out and scaring you in times like this and you assumed this time would be no different as his evilness seemed to only raise as it got deeper and deeper into the night. So you were already mentally prepared for an attack from an overly excited ball of fur, what you weren’t prepared for was a voice.

“What are you doing out so late?” the voice was gruff and slightly accusatory and made you all but jump completely out of your skin. And as you whip around in circles to try to find the face that the words feel from, you see your love and joy Oscar jump from the tallest trash can and scale the fire escape up to scramble back into your home like a guilty teenager that was caught by their mother.

“I asked you a question,” this time the words were followed by strong hands gripping your shoulders and a shrill yelp escaping your throat.

Your hand was pushing into your purse for at least one of your weapons as you squat to get out of the person's hold and turn to see their face, the grinning and prideful boy behind you washes you with a wave of relief before stabbing at you with annoyance.

“Haechan, what the fuck,” you whisper harshly as you pull your hand from your purse and stand up straight, your now free hand now moving to jab a rough finger into the dip of his chest, “how many times? How many times have I told you to not fucking sneak up on me like that. I know the pepper spray can’t hurt you and a stab wound would heal in like five minutes but that doesn’t mean I want to stab you, idiot.”

“Why not?” his head jerks back as if you said something dumb like the sky wasn’t actually blue or he wasn’t really the sexiest man to live, something that just has no logic behind it in the slightest, “like you said it would heal so maybe we could try, might be kinda hot.”

He punctuates his words by grabbing you roughly by the waist, his other hand wrapping gently around your neck before he pushes you against the rough brick behind you, the permanent evil glimmer in his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Do you ever get tired of being an absolute freak?” you thinly veiled insult doesn’t pack as much of a punch as you had maybe hoped, but when he begins to mouth at the skin of your jaw and cheek you can’t really find it within yourself to care.

“Well isn’t that why you like me?” he asks rhetorically as he starts to nip light bruises in the spots that blur your vision, “freaky me must be your favorite, because otherwise you wouldn’t be dressed the way you are.”

He’s no wrong, not even in the slightest, but the confident way in which he says it is enough to make you want to lie, “wanting you and liking you are two different things, no one ever said I liked you.”

“Oh but you want me,” the way in which he takes everything you say in strides without even batting an eye is bit infuriating, but the way his fingers tighten against your neck and push into your jugular is enough to make you melt against him, “that’s what you said so for once that’s not me putting words into your pretty little mouth. But don’t say you don’t like me, that’s a dirty lie and we both know it.”

“You don’t like when I lie?” you pout at him, trying to pull more and more reactions from him, “but some of your favorite things I say are lies, like how big you are and how well you fuc-“

“Alright that’s enough of you,” he interrupts, his fist tightening that much more and his other slipping from your waist to reach under the hem of your dress, a satisfied growl and his tongue pressing into the inside of his cheek being his reaction when he realizes the underwear he was grabbing for wasn’t there, “I’ve had to watch you prance around all night, letting a low down dog of a man touch you. And for what? My attention? Baby, you already have my attention.”

Your words stutter violently, the only sounds coming from your throat are whines and gasps as his fingers slip between your thighs and glide against the dampened skin, never staying on your clit long enough to give you the pleasure you need but enough to make you squirm.

“You were watching me?” you finally gasp out, before it clicks in your brain how dumb of a question it was. He told you a long time ago that he always will keep an eye on you, and knowing what he is and the things he can do, you had no reason to not believe him.

“I always am my pretty baby,” he coos before pressing teasing kisses to your open mouth, seemingly tasting and feeding off of every little noise that slips out, “and it hurts to see you let such a nasty man touch you where only I should. You didn’t even notice him following you out of that trashy club did you, silly thing?”

You jerk back as much as you can with the way he holds you, eyes widening at the news that you were apparently being followed without your knowledge. Every emotion that swims in your brain feels like its fighting for dominance, but with the way he chooses to dip his middle and ring fingers just barely past your entrance you’re struggling to cling to just one.

“God, you are so lucky to have me aren’t you? Who else would take care of creeps and make you feel good hm?” he tilts his head as he speaks, his breath warm against the side of your face before his tongue dips to lick at the shell of your ear, “no one can make you feel the way I do can they?”

“No,” you finally answer after a moment, the word coming out as an airy breath as his fingers finally sink in all the way. He wastes no time before curling them and pressing at the spot that makes your knees buckle, “please Haechan, need you so bad.”

“Oh is that one of those infamous lies of yours you were talking about?” he pulls away slightly, but shows no interest in slowing the motions of his hand, “well it can’t be can it? I can always tell you know? Can hear the way your heart picks up when you lie, much different than the way it does when you’re about to come for me.”

His wrist starts to move faster, the heel of his hand finally pressing and rubbing against your clit as the muscles of his forearm start to strain. The telling signs of your orgasm feel too sudden, too fast, and with his hand still constricting the blood that tries to flow to your head all you can do is let your eyes roll as your breathing comes out as small puffs.

“But since you’ve asked so nicely,” you can only let out a pathetic cry when he pulls his hand away from you suddenly, your lack of oxygen being the only thing stopping you from letting out a scream loud enough for the whole block to hear as he denies you of any stimulation. All you can do is let out incoherent babbling and whines as your hands reach up to dig your nails into the leather jacket protecting his forearms.

He releases your neck, your skin burning from the friction and the sudden amount of oxygen and blood returning to your head making you dizzy. And while your eyes roll as they try to refocus and your heart rate begins to slow to normal, he grabs your wrists and pushes your weakened form to be flush against the wall thats scrapes against your exposed skin.

“You are by far the best thing ive ever tasted,” he mutters, not concerned with whether you heard him or not, before his mouth latches to the side of your neck. He seems to find the most interest in the finger prints he left behind, as he pulls the tender skin between his sharp teeth and works to create a bruise that won’t leave you for another week.

Regardless of denying you a proper release, he considers himself to still be a generous guy. As his tongue lays flat against the burning skin of your neck, he starts to kick at your feet until your clumsy legs are falling apart wide enough for him to press his thigh against your skin, and in the exact way he predicted, you can’t help but to begin grinding helplessly against him.

One of the main reasons the dress that you currently wear is one of his favorites, is the neckline. Low enough to show the expanse of your chest and just enough of your cleavage to make him salivate. He’s as transparent as glass with this love, especially as he mouth travels down between your collarbones and sternum.

You can hear a quiet pop in the fabric of the neckline when he bites down and begins to pull it with him as he sinks down to the floor, the huff you let out being both in frustration from him further ruining a nice dress and your impatience.

The straps dig harshly into the skin of your shoulders before they give and fall, the sudden lack of support making it easier for Haechan to take the fabric and expose your chest to the cold air.

The look in his eyes when you look down is mean and predatory, you fear one day he’ll snap and consume you whole, but for today he settles for wrapping his swollen lips around your nipple and sucking harshly.

Your hips quicken involuntary, broken moans filling the empty alley as you twitch and squirm in his hold. He seems to grow irritated at your impatience as he shoves your wrists back harshly, his knuckles audibly scraping against the brick.

“You can never be patient to save your life,” his head tilts forward and he presses his forehead against your sternum with a huff before he’s leaning back up to press a sloppy kiss against your panting mouth, “you’re lucky I missed you so much or otherwise you’d be in for a lot longer of a night.”

He keeps your wrists trapped in his hold as he moves to kneel on the ground, the rough and dirtied pavement doing nothing to help the tears that already litter his jeans.

You feel your face flush when he lets go of one wrist and uses his newly freed hand to shove the hem of your dress up and around your hips, and the burning beneath your skin only worsens when he leans forward and breathes deeply with his nose pressed against your pubic bone.

He leans back for a moment, his hand wrapping around the bend of your knee to pull your leg to rest on his shoulder and you feel your shoulder sting from the wall cutting into your skin from him moving you like a doll.

“Haechan,” you whisper his name out with a pout that you hope will get you exactly what you want, but you can only huff and petulantly twitch when he begins nipping and licking at the skin on the insides of your thighs.

His teeth are sharper than most, and he usually airs on the side of caution because he’s aware of this. His bites are gentle for the most part, but when you begin to peak in your feelings of impatience, you can’t help the way your hips begin jerking forwards in search of his tongue.

His palm pushing against your hip is his first warning, a generous one in his opinion, but when the warning seems to fly completely over your pretty little head he has no other choice but to lean forward and sink his teeth into delicate skin at the bend of your thigh.

You cry out for a second before you’re tucking your lip between your teeth. It stings terribly, the skin breaking around his teeth burns but you can’t stop the way you revel in the sharp pain. And at the exact same moment you taste the metallic ting of the blood falling from your bitten lip, you feel the same warm thick liquid drip from the wounds he’s created and straight into his grinning mouth.

More blood falls freely when he pulls his teeth from your flesh, his warm tongue flattening against the injury immediately to catch as much of the liquid as possible.

He laps at it for a moment, savoring as much of the taste of your life source as possible, before he starts at the bottom of the bite mark and drags slowly up.

Once his tongue moves off the wound, he continues across your skin. The moment he hits your labia, you let out a gasp and jerk against him again, your mind completely erasing the fact that the bite was meant to be a punishment for that exact thing.

He seems to have forgotten him wanting you to remain still, as he doesn’t hesitate in the slightest until his licking across your stil swollen bundle of nerves.

He moans as the flavor of your arousal mixes with the still lingering taste of your blood, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine and making you shiver.

He tilts his head up to smile at you, his eyes shining as he grabs your hands and moving them to thread into his curled hair.

“Why are you shivering?” he asks with a faux concern, his right hand smoothing over your thigh before pushing between your legs to return his fingers to their spot inside of you, immediately pumping and curling them slowly, “are you cold or something? Maybe it’s because you’re in such a skimpy little dress?”

You groan out in annoyance at his playful act, your eyes rolling back but for once not in pleasure. It’s not until he starts to proudly giggle to himself do you exploit the hold you have on the back of his head to push him back to your body.

You fear that being shoved around may be the exact thing Haechan would have wanted, when he happily moans before latching his lips to your clit again, but the pleasure that melts your muscles erases any need to call him out on his deviousness and perverted enjoyment.

He seems happy with your moving hips when they start to move against his waiting face. Your fingers mindlessly and desperately tug at his scalp as your head tilts back and thumps against the wall.

The hand that isn’t pressed deeply inside you slides across your hip, his callused fingers making goosebumps run up your arms as they push into your lower belly.

You can feel yourself fluttering around his fingers as the curl and push apart, your thighs tensing around his bobbing head as he licks and bites gently at your clit. It feels like it’s harder to catch your breath and you know you’re only moments from orgasm.

“Please, please,” you start to stutter the word over and over, praying both that he lets you come and that you’re neighbors are deep enough in sleep to not hear the noises you know will escape you.

You almost cry in relief when you feel his shoulders shift, his face and fingers both pressing deeper from the movement in a way that tells you he has no intention on letting up on your shivering body.

His blunt nails start to scratch into your skin and you can feel his heavy panting breath against your skin every time he begins to lap at you desperately. You can feel your muscles lose even more strength, and your head becoming heavier and dazed as he coaxed you closer and closer to your finish.

Your shoulders twitch up towards your ears and you feel your stomach clench as your back curves, small whines and whimpers leave you as the heel of your foot thumps against the space between his shoulder blades.

You gasp out when you feel it, them. They start as small bumps beneath your palms, and you feel your chest tighten when it clicks what they are.

He’s always had a good hold on controlling them, keeping them hidden so he can wreak havoc without being clocked as something inhuman. They had peaked out a few times, usually in moments like this, but it’s such a rarity that you can’t stop the way your heart begins to thump in your chest.

Out of everything about him, you were obsessed with all of him, but you loved his horns the most. They were small and sharp at the side of his head and the way he looks when they’re poking out amongst his curled hair, and especially when he was grumpy or mad, made you want to jump on him and kiss him all over.

You were so caught up and distracted by them growing to full size directly under your hands you forgot how sharp they were at their tapered ends. The reminder you get is when they sharply down push into your palms like thorns.

You gasp sharply, but the way they curl makes you afraid to pull away. It makes you tremble and flush with embarrassment, but the pain bleeding into your hands is the last straw on your nerves. All you can do is wrap your now bleeding hands around the horns and cry out into the cold air as your erratic hips move across his face.

He groans deeply against you as your nails scrape at the skin that surrounds the base of his horns, the feeling of his and his still moving tongue pushes you through and past your gasping orgasm.

You sign in relief when he finally detaches from your body, his mouth moving up to press your hip and across the space of your stomach the dress reveals. He puts your leg down slowly and he creeps back up your torso, now hyper aware of your wounded hands still stuck on his horns.

“Sorry my love, they’re kinda sharp aren’t they?” he rhetorically asks with a soft but guilty grin. He stays ducked down enough that your hands don’t go too high that they start to slip, and he follows with his own to help you detach them.

“I just keep making my mark on you tonight huh?” he sighs as he stands at full height and brings your still bleeding hands to his face. You grit your teeth and scrunch your nose when he gives you a knowing look that says ‘we both know what I have to do.’

He is quick and gentle when he swipes his tongue across the deep cuts in your hands, not wanting it to sting more than necessary.

A teasing grin fills his face when he looks up to see the tired pout on your face, “just like the one on your leg, there won’t be anything left than a bruise if you just wait like an hour,” he’s sincere in his words, and you know it works, but you still feel all wounded and tired.

“Take me home,” you demand, wrapping your slowly healing hands around his shoulders and leaning until your head rests against his shoulder.

“Hey now,” he contradicts his tone by wrapping his arm around your waist and helping guide you walk to your apartment, “you still have to feed Oscar, and take a shower, and I’m not even full yet so you have to let me play with you until I wear you out.”

His tone is far too genuine and loving for the words he says, and you swat weakly at his chest in annoyance, but all he does in response is a laugh.

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct imagine #nct oneshot #haechan oneshot #haechan imagine #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #nct fic #nct fanfic

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 4 years ago

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The Thrilling Saga of Connie paying real life money for the Worst Sonic TV Show

Let’s begin with the simple fact that me and my sister, @birdsareblooming “Cori”, have both been hyperfixating on Sonic the Hedgehog since last March. During this hyperfixation, I was on Sonic Wiki to copy-paste song lyrics onto my stolen mp3s, and I called my sister in and pointed at the template at the bottom.

“What is this Sonic Underground thing?” I asked. “It has one shit billion songs.”

So we clicked on the page to read about it, and each sentence we read was a punch in the gut and this quickly became the funniest thing we’d ever read. Highlights include:

It looks like this:

“Sonic[...] is known to be a prince”

Sonic has two siblings who actually have good characterization but their names are literally just Sonia and Manic. Like. Sonic split into two names. jesus christ

Also Sonic and his siblings all share a voice actor. honestly Jaleel White does his best with it but

“The three siblings possess enchanted medallions that transform not only into musical instruments, but also into weapons.”

“Some fans consider Sonia to be a clone of Amy Rose, minus the attraction Amy feels for Sonic.” YEAH I SURE HOPE IT DOES

“Manic is the most often captured of the siblings” himbo king

Knuckles shows up, and for the first, like, two sentences his description is very similar to the game, and then you get immediately pulverized by “He has a pet Dinosaur called Chomps.”

Literally so many sentences on Sonic Wiki are lowkey salty about this show. The page features lines such as “Sonic Underground bears little relation to the often complex Sonic universe (including previous animated series, as well as Sonic comics and games), and shares only three established characters” and “many of the characters in the Freedom Fighter group that were in Sonic the Hedgehog are completely left out (including Tails).”

“The show met with mostly negative reviews.”

*checks air dates* It only lasted two goddamn months

So after seeing this we thought it was the funniest thing and we showed our older sister, @patema-introverted “North.” To our surprise, our at the time “knew nothing about this sonic bullshit” sister recognized the show. Turns out she’d seen trailers for it as a child and that was her sole exposure to Sonic canon.

We were in quarantine at the time, so we ended up finding it on YouTube and binge-watching it all together as a sibling bonding activity. It was just as hilarious as we thought it would be- some stuff was legitimately good, like the sibling dialogue for instance, but good lord were the character designs ugly, the plot all over the place, and pretty much every song, um, not great. Also there was one episode that we skipped because it got, um, I think “stereotypical” is the nicest word I can use here.

But the point is, we had a jolly good time watching it, and afterwards we binged all the other Sonic shows and bonded as a family.

After quarantine, North and I go back to college. My roommate gets groceries at Walmart, while I get them elsewhere, so while she and North collect food I wander the DVD aisle to look at the cool movies and also dumpster-dive in the bargain bin for Cats (2019). I am also short as fuck, so the top shelf of movies I cannot see, I can only read the labels.

So one day I was browsing the DVDs, and glancing over at the labels for the top shelf. I read over the final one before the shelves end.

And then I stop, do a double take, and have a heart attack, because there is a label that reads “SONIC UNDERGROUND $3.74″

I immediately climb the shelf but there aren’t any DVDs atop the shelf. However, the label is still there. I excitedly tell my sister and roommates, freak out with them a bit, and then give myself a mission statement:

I will buy the $4 Sonic Underground DVD from Walmart

I did not want it as a gift, I did not want to find it online. I wanted to walk into a store, pick up the Worst Sonic Show on DVD, walk it straight to the checkout, and in front of the cashier and God, pay for it with my own money. I did not care if it was the whole series or two episodes; I needed to do this for my own serotonin.

We would go to Walmart about once a week. Every time, I would go to the DVD aisle, and go right to the end of the shelves. I would stare at the label SONIC UNDERGROUND $3.74 and empty space above it and wonder who the fuck was buying this other than me. I would occasionally ask employees if they had any copies in storage. I would build a shrine to Manic in my room. Okay, no I didn’t, but only because my RA would have murdered me.

Christmas break comes, and we have to go home. We have a nice Christmas, and Cori and I infodump at each other about how we would make Sonic Underground a good show (note: we’re both galaxy braining) and also play Bendy and the Ink Machine. Fun times.

When we finally get back to College, it’s late January- long story short we have a very long winter break. My roommate who gets food at Walmart got food without us the first week cause she showed up first, so we take her out to Walmart the first time in the year of our lord 2021 on January 29.

I wander the Valentine’s aisle, immediately grabbing a sequin puppy. I go to the DVDs and see Animaniacs Season One, also grab that.

And then.

There it is.

The Holy Grail.

Above the label SONIC UNDERGROUND $3.74, is one DVD left.

Already I am losing my mind. It’s roughly seven hours of episodes- I couldn’t find an episode list, but I think that’s half the show, for $4! And the cover is amazing.

That’s a png of Sonic from Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog (1993) with a medallion badly photoshopped over it. The medallion is too small.

Manic is shoved into the corner. He doesn’t have his medallion at all.

Sonia isn’t even pictured on the front cover, probably because they realized she was the worst designed of the bunch. I’m not ragging on her though, because she’s still one of the better designed characters of the show. Those background characters make me cry

So you bet your ass I finally paid my hard-earned $4 for this shit. Upon getting home, I discovered that there was even wilder shit with this DVD than I thought.

For starters: the bonus features listed are as follows:

Original Concept Art - did not expect that these character designs were the final draft

Storyboard-to-screen - did not expect they bothered to storyboard this

Music Video Jukebox - that’s cute, they thought we liked the music

Interviews with original screenwriter & executive producer - I fully expect the only questions to be “why.”

On the left of this list are screenshots from the show, where people can finally see Sonia, who we Know™ is a girl because she is pink and has hair and also an actual body shape instead of just circles like her brothers.

But wait... what’s that in the lefthand corner?

That looks like some kind of robot. But it’s not a robot from Sonic Underground! That didn’t appear once. Why is it here?

The mystery continues upon opening the DVD case: inside are advertisements for other collections, including other Sonic DVDs: two volumes of Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog (1993) and the final episodes of Sonic the Hedgehog “SatAM” (1993)

First of all, the first volume of AOSTH has the exact same PNG of Sonic as the Underground Volume 1. Not even trying to hide it. But second... the second volume of AOSTH also has this robot on its cover.

And THIS ROBOT IS ALSO DECORATING THE THIRD DISC IN THE SET?

So you may be asking, who is this robot? Is it from AOSTH or Underground?

IT’S FROM FUCKING SATAM. The one show that doesn’t have it decorating the DVD covers.

Also, not only is it from SatAM, it only appears in one fucking episode. Not a major character! AND IT HAS A DIFFERENT DESIGN ON THE PROMO ART, WITH HAIR AND FANGS.

Why is it showing up everywhere? What is going on?

I have not yet had the opportunity to watch this glorious piece of animation, but I am so glad at the confusion I have felt upon receiving it.

But before I go, I must share with you the best part of this DVD purchase. And it was flipping to the back, scanning the details, and discovering the exact runtime of the episode collection.

Guys, gals, and enby pals, friends and enemies, Nintendo and Sega, the first Volume of Sonic Underground has a runtime of...

420 MINUTES.

Maybe I’m wrong and this IS the best Sonic show.

#sonic underground #sonic the hedgehog #sonic 2020 #walmart #mine #connie writes #story time with tumblr

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i-am-bitterly-jittery · 4 years ago

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Simply Meant To Be (pt 1)

An expansion on this soulmate blurb (no Virgil in this one though)

[part 2]

Rating: teen

Word Count: 2130

Pairings: Roceit, Intrulogical

Warnings: minor swearing

~~~START~~~

Roman is a romantic, that’s just a fact. He loves love. Any day he gets to watch two soulmates meet each other is automatically a good day. The second best day of his life was getting to watch Remus meet their soulmate when they were sixteen. The best day of his life is reserved for when he meets his own soulmate.

It hasn’t happened yet, but it will. One day.

For now, Roman is content with being colorblind (well not content, but he’s learned to not let it bother him too much). Remus and Logan are actually a huge help with that. Logan has even gone as far as to make a list of all of Roman’s clothing and includes a chart of what pieces do and do not go together based on Remus’ (admittedly professional) opinions, and Remus actually went through and labeled all of Roman’s makeup with what color it is and what kind of look it should go with.

Anyone who vaguely knew the twins might think that Remus would use this opportunity to mess with Roman, but Remus knows how much Roman hates being colorblind; they would never lie to Roman about colors — about other things? Sure, but not colors.

Remus and Logan met when Logan moved to their school from Georgia. One day Remus had claimed that there was a trail of color — they would later learn that it was navy blue, Logan’s soon-to-be favorite color — leading from the parking lot, to the main office, to the east wing. They’d chosen to skip first period in order to follow it, having never seen the trail before, and Roman, being unwilling to miss the opportunity to watch his brother meet their soulmate, followed him. Remus had walked right into a physics classroom, and straight for a boy with short curls and thick glasses that Roman had never seen before and declared him their soulmate.

Roman got detention for skipping first period, Remus got a pass on account of meeting their soulmate.

Most people met their soulmates before they turned twenty-five, after all, how difficult can it be when all you have to do is find the trail of color they leave behind them everywhere they go and follow it?

Well, as Roman has learned in his thirty-five years of being alive, it can be pretty freaking difficult.

As children, Roman and Remus had wandered their town far and wide looking for colorful trails, and even after they met Logan, Remus continued to go with Roman as he searched, even if they couldn’t see Roman’s soulmate’s trail themself. As soon as Roman graduated from high school, he took the customary gap year that most everybody who hadn’t met their soulmates yet takes to search for their soulmates.

He never caught a glimpse of anything.

“What if I missed them somehow? What if I saw their trail and just didn’t realize it?” Roman whines one day at his usual Saturday brunch — because they’re adults goddammit — with Remus and Logan.

“You wouldn’t have missed them, Ro bro,” Remus assures him as they do every time Roman starts lamenting about having not met his soulmate yet. “Colors are so unmistakable that there’s no way you’ll miss them.”

“And even if you are genetically colorblind — which is unlikely considering Remus is not,” Logan continues before Roman has a chance to respond. “I have read multiple papers that state that soultrails will still make themselves distinct. There are multiple accounts of the trails emitting light, absorbing light, or even emitting sound. All of that is, of course, on top of the translucent cloud that follows your soulmate’s every move. I find it improbable that you, of all people, would not have noticed a soultrail.”

“Yeah, I know you guys are right,” Roman sighs. “I just want to meet them! I’ve travelled all over the place looking for them, where are they?”

Remus says nothing, which Roman is grateful for because Remus has a habit of saying dark jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, and Roman really doesn’t need to hear them suggest that his soulmate died in a car crash or something right now. Besides, the question is rhetorical. If Remus could see Roman’s soulmate’s trail, then he’s sure they would have spent the last nineteen years looking for them too.

“Sorry, I guess I brought the mood down,” Roman apologizes. “How are you guys?”

Remus opens their mouth.

“The PG version, please!” Roman rushes to say before Remus can mentally scar him. Again.

Remus closes their mouth again.

Logan rolls his eyes fondly and proceeds to get Roman up to date on all the high school gossip.

“- and of course the middle school’s robotics instructor left suddenly to follow her soulmate to England, so I have taken over as their advisor until a suitable replacement can be hired.”

“How is that?” Roman asks, cringing at the thought of having to deal with middle schoolers. Kids in general kind of freak him out, but middle schoolers especially.

“It has been fine, they are not as adept as my high school students, but of course for many of them this is their introduction to such things, so I’m trying to be patient and supportive.”

Roman snorts at that. He’s sure Logan is a good teacher, but his brother-in-law can be a bit short tempered, and has a habit of talking down to people who don’t understand what he’s trying to tell them.

“Don’t laugh at him!” Remus jumps in to defend their soulmate. “Logan’s great with kids, it’s adults he has a problem with.”

“They are much too old to be as ignorant as they are,” Logan defends himself resolutely.

“Of course they are, Sugar Butt.” Logan cringes slightly at the pet name, which is really all Remus is ever looking for with their pet names.

“Anyway,” Logan says, somewhat forcefully. “There is one student who seems to know what he is doing, but he doubts himself at every turn. I have tried telling him that he is doing everything correctly, but he is… reluctant to trust himself.”

“Maybe as the year goes on he’ll gain confidence,” Remus suggests. Logan hums in acknowledgment, and Roman takes that as the end of talking about Logan’s students. “Oh! Ro bro! Did you hear the theater got a new makeup artist?”

“Finally!” Roman groans, thinking back on their last makeup artist. “I swear Lisa was trying to poke my eyes out every time she did my eyeliner!”

“Oh she probably was,” Remus comments offhandedly. “I told her — back when she first started with the theater — that you thought that makeup artisting was a waste of time.”

“WHAT!?” Roman screeches, gaining the attention of the staff and other patrons.

“Roman,” Logan warns, growing uncomfortable under the curious stares.

“How could you do that to me?” Roman hisses at a much quieter volume. “I never said that! She hated me for five years because of you!”

Remus shrugs, slurping the end of their drink through their straw loudly.

“You better not make the new artist hate me!”

“I would never!” Remus gasps, clutching their heart dramatically.

Roman glares.

“Cross my heart!” Remus insists with a much too innocent expression.

“I hate you.”

Remus just gasps again before dissolving into uncontrollable giggles.

~~~

There isn’t rehearsal on Sunday, so Roman doesn’t have to go in to work. Unfortunately, he is saddled by the knowledge that Remus — as the theater’s costume designer — does have to go in today, and therefore has a whole day to lie to the new makeup artist about him.

Come Monday, all Roman can do is hope that Remus hasn’t done irreparable damage.

“Calm down,” Remus orders when they come to pick Roman up. “They weren’t even in yesterday; I haven’t met them yet.”

“I’m not letting you ruin my relationship with the makeup artist again,” Roman pouts.

“Just try and stop me!” Remus cackles.

Once they reach the theater, Roman practically jumps from the car before Remus has even parked.

“REAL MATURE!” Remus yells after him as he sprints for the theater door.

“THIS ONE IS GOING TO LIKE ME!” Roman yells back.

“NOT IF I MEET THEM FIRST!”

Roman skids to a stop as soon as he reaches the lobby. Not expecting their twin to just be standing there, Remus slams into his back, throwing them both to the ground.

“The fuck, Ro Bro?” Remus demands as they flop off their brother and onto their back.

“I-I see it,” Roman whispers, voice filled with wonder.

“See what?” Remus demands. “The lobby? You’ve seen the lobby bef-oh!”

The awestruck look on Roman’s face finally clicks, and Remus bounces excitedly.

“You see it? Like it it?” Remus scrambles to their feet, dragging Roman up with them. “Where? Which way does it go?”

“It looks like how the sun feels,” Roman says instead of answering. “All light and warm and good.”

“Roman Kingsley you tell me which way your soulmate went this instant!” Remus demands loudly. This is important dammit!

“It goes from there,” Roman points to the side door that’s usually used by staff that take the bus to work. “To there,” the door leading backstage.

“Excellent!” Remus cheers dragging Roman forward. “Time for your date with destiny!”

Remus throws the backstage door open dramatically, but Roman groans as he realizes that his soulmate’s trail is going in literally every direction, making it impossible to know which way they went last.

“Well?” Remus asks expectantly.

“Either my soulmate is familiarizing themself to the theater, or they knew I’d be here and are trying to spite me,” Roman answers somewhat dejectedly. “I can’t tell which trail is freshest.”

“Well shit.” Remus scans each entry as though Roman’s soulmate will just happen to wander in (plausible, considering they’ve trailed all over the theater).

“Hey guys!” A voice calls from by the dressing rooms. The brothers turn to find Thomas, the owner of the theater and their boss.

“Thomas!” Remus cries gleefully. “My absolute favoritest person in the world behind my incredibly sexy soulmate!”

“Okay, so you want something,” Thomas answers with an amused grin. Remus always piles on the compliments when they want something.

“Who’s new today?” Roman asks, more to the point.

“Like, in the theater?” Thomas asks. “Just Janus, the new makeup artist. Why?” Thomas’s eyes widen as if he’s just had a realization. “You’re not going to prank him or something, are you? He’s very talented, I can’t have you scaring him away already!”

“Roman’s soulmate is the new makeup artist? Lame,” Remus pouts. “How am I supposed to trick him into hating Roman?”

“Soulmate?”

“My soulmate is in the building, Thomas!” Roman declares, striking a dashing pose before deflating a little. “Except his trail leads all over the place, I don’t know where he went!”

“Oh… well,” Thomas looks to each direction Janus could have gone, but he clearly doesn’t know which way Janus would have gone. “He said he wanted to get a lay of the land before everyone got here…”

“I got this!” Remus pipes up suddenly before cupping their hands around their mouth like a megaphone and screaming at the top of their lungs. “JANUS!”

“What?” A faint, far-off voice calls back, followed but the sound of hurried footsteps. “Thomas?”

“Dressing rooms!” Thomas calls back.

Footsteps thunder down the stairs, and all too soon a man appears on them.

The first time you lay eyes on your soulmate, you begin to see the world in color. Everyone’s experience is different: Remus said that as soon as he laid eyes on Logan, the world exploded violently into vibrant shades. Logan said that colors appeared one at time, quickly, but slow enough for him to notice. Roman’s mom said that her soulmate’s trail swelled to fill the space before things slowly began to take on their proper color, and his mama said that it was almost like everything had always had color, she just hadn’t bothered to notice before.

For Roman, the man before him is painted in vibrant shades while the background remains in grayscale, but as soon as the man makes eye contact, his colors begin to slowly bleed throughout the space.

The man’s eyes widen as he stares, slack-jawed at Roman — no doubt mirroring Roman’s own expression.

“I’m Roman,” Roman says quickly, before Remus can forever ruin his first meeting with his soulmate by making a dick joke or something.

The man smiles and Roman immediately decides that his favorite color is whatever this guy’s eyes are — they’re hazel, but Roman will later change his favorite color to red after realizing how stunning and bold the color is when it isn’t just another shade of gray.

“Janus.”

~~~TO BE CONTINUED~~~

General Taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly

@pixelated-pineapple

#ts sanders sides #sanders sides #roceit #intrulogical #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #Janus Sanders #character thomas #My writing #thursday writes #fanfiction #fanfic #creativitwins #princeit #soulmate au #simply meant to be au

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mooshys · 3 years ago

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zara employee!AU futakuchi

content: me trying to be funny, retail headcanons

word count: 2.0k

a/n: ah yes, so winter (@/wackatoshi) and I planned out this entire mall universe for the hq boys and it’s the funniest thing to think about. y’all know those rude zara employees at the mall who judge you as soon as you walk in and tell you that “everything’s out on the floor already” when you ask for a size up? and all the racks on the floor are in shambles? that’s what inspired this. not sure if another installment will be added to this, but whatever! for reference, the other employees: oikawa, ennoshita, kuroo, hanamaki.

the worst person to work with... ever

he completely fits the stereotype of zara employee

will go on his lunch break, but “accidentally” forget to clock out, so he’s still earning cash for eating his sandwich in the back. also prolongs his breaks by at least 5 minutes

can never be found when there’s a rush. and by the time they DO find him, the store is completely empty

comes in late, but leaves as soon as his shift ends

never comes to the store on his days off and whenever the managers text him asking if he can pick up a shift he says he’s “busy”

everyone knows it’s a lie. one time ennoshita, the manager, went on his break and saw futakuchi buying a pretzel at the auntie anne's from the mall food court even though he texted ennoshita like thirty minutes ago that he already had important plans for the day. futakuchi made direct eye contact with him as he took a bite into his pretzel, not the least bit apologetic about lying

all his coworkers wonder how he still has this job

spends most of his shift complaining about working than actually working

when people ask if there are any other sizes in the back, he’ll go to the storage room, play on his phone for 5 minutes, and then walk out to the customer and tell them that they're out of stock

will say he’s doing go-backs, but in reality he’s just walking around the store in circles to avoid work

when he’s REALLY annoyed he sometimes won’t even wear his name tag on the floor so the customers don’t know if he works there and will leave him alone

doesn’t even try to hide how disgruntled he is with work, will literally say “I hate this job” loud enough for customers to hear when he’s shit talking with oikawa behind the register. does loud audible sighs when a customer comes up to check out if he’s in the middle of telling a story

awful at folding the clothes. he might as well just compress all the shirts into a ball and toss them into the bag instead

DESPISES CLOSING WITH A PASSION. he hates staying back even five minutes to pick clothes off from the ground. will literally curse that the company is so inconsiderate of his time even though he clocked in late to his shift...

if you’re on shift with him be prepared to do all the work... go see a chiropractor cuz you’ll basically be carrying him on your back the whole time!

he also finds the most creative ways to get others to do his work for him. his usual victim is hanamaki. he’ll go up to him and say “hey, do you mind folding up all the shirts in zone B for me? ennoshita asked me to organize the back since we’re doing new promos tomorrow” and hanamaki’s so clueless and goes “yeah! sure dude, I got it!”

futakuchi doesn’t organize in the back, he hides behind all the boxes while crouched down on his phone for about twenty minutes before going out on the floor again

someone save hanamaki he’s literally doing futakuchi’s work for him... poor boy needs a RAISE

you actually don’t work at the store futakuchi works at, you’re a part timer at another nearby store

during the holiday season the zara futakuchi works at gets super busy and you take a few extra shifts there to help out

you and futakuchi have an... interesting relationship

first thing you say when you see him during the holiday season: “you haven’t been fired yet?”

he’s rolling his eyes going “oh haha. very funny. saw you were at the bottom of sales last week. that’s probably why you’re always getting transferred here, huh.”

you two are constantly snapping back at each other, even when you’re ringing other people up at the registers. the customers are standing there awkwardly as you two scan and passive aggressively insult each other

it’s so weird, like you two are so mean to each other, but at the same time you’re both practically attached to the hip during your shifts together

futakuchi is more... punctual during the holiday season and even takes a COUPLE EXTRA SHIFTS which floors ennoshita (he’s so moved, he thinks futakuchi has had a change of heart and is trying to improve his work ethic... buddy that’s not it, I’m so sorry)

every time you clock in, futakuchi is there too and you’re going. oh great. not this guy again. it’s like clockwork, as soon as your shift starts, you’re at each others’ neck

when you diss the way he folds clothes, he’s scrutinizing your high pitched customer service voice

at first the other guys are laughing at what’s going on between you two and they’re thinking you two are Mortal Enemies For Life

but then they start noticing little by little that your relationship with futakuchi isn’t like that at all

when you’re scolding futakuchi with his awful folding, you take the time to show him all the steps to make a clean display free of wrinkles. he’s standing next to you trying to imitate the way your hands work on the fabric. he adds in a few snarky comments here and there, but you hush him as you’re giving instructions

and when you’ve got a huge rack of clothes from the dressing room that need to go back on the floor, futakuchi offers to help you put them away. he’ll say “ennoshita told me to help out” and you brush it off, but he’s actually lying. he’s helping you on his own accord

he has his asshole persona to keep up with, so he’s still sliding in snide remarks, but you’re so used to it and can keep up with him that he’s always on his toes. he likes this back and forth with you

one day, kuroo starts talking about you with futakuchi to get the 411 on what’s going on between you two. futakuchi denies it all until kuroo starts teasing him by saying he’ll ask you on a date. that’s when futakuchi’s going. wait what

“yeah, there’s a nice restaurant about ten minutes from here and I think going there on a date would really—”

futakuchi starts internally freaking out. he’s going “oh. a date. at a nice italian restaurant near here. wow.”

and kuroo’s got a nice lopsided grin because HE KNOWS and he’s still egging him on

that’s when it finally hits futakuchi. he... he likes you. He Likes You A Lot

the tips of his ears start turning red at this sudden revelation

and upon seeing this kuroo’s like "Alright bud, I was just messing with you. But if you don’t ask her out on a date then I sure as hell will!"

futakuchi’s going alright man give me like a week

Bro futakuchi is even MEANER to you than he was before because he Likes you and Doesn’t Know How To Deal With His Feelings since he’s got the emotional capacity of a grade schooler

futakuchi: wow. that blouse you’re wearing. it suits you.

you: really? thank you I think the color—

futakuchi: yeah. it’s ugly. like you.

you: ...

kuroo’s watching the exchange from the register completely horrified. he’s like. what have I done. futakuchi whips his head over with pleading eyes when you tell him to shove it and kuroo’s shaking his head thinking “I never should have gotten involved”

he’s in too deep already and when you leave the floor to help ennoshita with the stockroom, kuroo has another one-on-one with futakuchi. he tells him the basics like “Don’t call the person you like Ugly”

“well what else am I supposed to say”

truly a lost cause...

it’s like talking to a wall with futakuchi. kuroo’s telling him to be polite and sweet to you and futakuchi’s nodding his head in understanding, but as soon as he’s within a 3ft radius near you his brain is thinking “insult them for attention” kuroo’s like DUDE. WHAT DID I SAY.

this sad exchange goes on for a week and by then kuroo’s like. I give up on you. I can’t deal with this and the holiday rush. he’s waving up the white flag

futakuchi’s been kinda meaner to you than before, so you start ignoring him a bit and he’s getting so frustrated with himself that he doesn’t even know what to do and kuroo notices you two not talking AT ALL during a shift and he’s like. Futakuchi. Just Confess Already. Jesus.

futakuchi wishes he never realized he likes you because he wants to go back to those work days when you two would be Kinda Cheeky towards each other and everything was lax

the confession happens when ennoshita assigns you and futakuchi to work on orders in the back room. at first, futakuchi was trying to find hanamaki to do the work for him, but was promptly dragged by ennoshita to the back. there was no getting out of this

when he saunters on in, he sees you’re already printing out the shipping labels and folding up boxes and it’s silent, your back is facing him and he can definitely feel something is wrong

you saw him searching for hanamaki on the floor and it hurt your feelings because were you that insufferable to work with?

there’s silence between you two and then you break it and tell him that he can go back on the floor if he doesn’t want to work with you

and he can sense the hurt in your voice and he’s like... no, no, no that isn’t it

you’re shaking your head and saying “look, I get it. I get on your nerves. I could tell from this past week and you avoiding me. sorry if I did anything wrong... you can grab hanamaki and we’ll finish these orders while you work in the front”

now futakuchi is internally screaming NONONONONO in his mind because YOU’RE not annoying him at all he’s just a complete dummy who doesn’t know how to deal with his own emotions and now you’re on the verge of crying as you fold some shirts with tissue paper

it’s now or never

futakuchi blurts out that he Really Likes You

at first you think he’s joking and you’re going “Are you serious right now? I’m literally crying and you think NOW is the time to do some fake middle school confession? you’re sick”

POOR GUY HE’S LIKE “NO I REALLY MEAN THAT I LIKE YOU... A LOT...”

he’s right next to you now and grabs onto your shoulders so you can get a good look at his face. his eyes are all business as he confesses again

you’ve got your hand over your mouth and it hits you

futakuchi being Extra Mean to you is his way of showing affection...

now you’re throwing your head back in laughter because he’s so dumb. he’s tall and handsome and too cheeky for his own good, but he’s also like an elementary school kid realizing he’s got his first ever crush and he has absolutely No Idea how to Deal With It

after you’re done laughing, you lightly hit him on the chest and throw in a few lighthearted insults before you hug him as tight as you can. he returns the favor by wrapping his arms around you, practically engulfing you

he’s thinking wow. this is nice. he’s keeping his mouth clamped shut to avoid ruining the moment, but he’s totally digging the way you fit perfectly in his arms

when you pull away you notice his face is red all over and now you’re cracking up and calling him tomato head

and at this, he’s pointing at your running mascara and is like “sure I look like a tomato, but you’re looking like a reject Joker with all that smudged makeup”

now you two are fighting in the back, but in a more loving manner

as soon as you both clock out for the night, futakuchi takes you to the nice italian restaurant nearby. the one kuroo mentioned about a week beforehand

it’s the perfect place for a first date

(he’s too prideful to thank kuroo, but what he instead does is send a selfie with you in the picture + the food during the first date. kuroo’s slow clapping it out. he knew the little asshole could do it.)

#futakuchi #futakuchi keiji #futakuchi headcanons #futakuchi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu ff #futakuchi hcs #hq headcanons #hq hcs #moosh hcs #futakuchi x you #I HATE TAGGIGNAISGNISGNSJG #I haven't been in a zara for over a year and I'm proud of that

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sgtjbbhasmyheart · 4 years ago

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Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Three

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1740

Warnings: Nosy (and well-meaning) friends acting like nosy siblings, angst, bad language words

A/N: After I originally posted this chapter on AO3, I got some comments that exacerbated the beginnings of a year long depression. Please be kind. I intended this chapter to come across as the gang being like siblings...always being in each other’s business. Is there a breach of privacy? Yes, but without the ill-intent.

DO NOT copy or replicate without permission

Bucky clutched his phone in his flesh hand as he made his way down a long hallway to the communal kitchen and eating area. A soft, crooked smile rested at his lips as he entered the space. Natasha and Sam were sitting at opposite ends of the rectangular table separating the kitchen from the lounge, enjoying a late breakfast. Steve was at a kitchen counter fiddling with the Keurig machine. He pulled another mug from the cupboard when he saw Bucky approach. “Mornin’, Buck. Sleep well?”

Bucky’s grin broadened as he leaned his backside against the countertop. “I did, actually. Thanks for asking,” he answered, looking to his phone at the incoming text.

(Y/N) Would you rather have skin that changes color based on your emotions or tattoos appear all over your body, depicting what you did the day before?

He missed the way Sam and Nat looked at each other in suspicion at his answer to Steve. He was too busy pressing the keys on his touch-screen.

Bucky The tattoos would be awkward, speaking from a male’s perspective, so I think color changing would be better. Not by much, though.

Bucky Would you rather have edible spaghetti hair that regrows every night or sweat maple syrup?

Bucky saw Steve slide the new mug, now filled with coffee, across the granite-top toward him from the corner of his eye. He glanced up quickly from the screen and nodded. “Thanks, buddy.” Steve answered with a smile.

“What, no grunted thanks or mumbled acknowledgment?” Natasha quipped, standing from her seat to place her plate in the dishwasher.

“Yeah, man. You have been using way too many words lately. I miss the grumpy dude that would brood in the corner,” Sam added, crossing his arms at his chest. “Are we even sure this is the right Bucky?”

Bucky’s phone vibrated again.

(Y/N) I love me some spaghetti! Can you imagine sweating sticky, gooey maple syrup during a humid New York summer?? Your clothes would be toast.

(Y/N) Mmmm, french toast.

Bucky chuckled at the reply, drawing the attention of three sets of eyes.

Sam wasn’t wrong; he wasn’t the same Bucky.

It had been five days since (Y/N)’s first drunken texts. Five days. He couldn’t believe so little time had passed. Somehow, (Y/N) had wiggled her way under his skin.

He had noticed after only a day or two; he was smiling more, less volatile. He felt lighter, happier. He wasn’t skulking about the compound like usual, trying to avoid the rest of the team. Some might go as far as to say he was friendlier than usual.

It felt good to have someone, a friend, learning about the real James Buchanan Barnes, for once, without the threat of The Soldier clouding their perception of him.

“You’re freaking me out, man. Straight outta Invasion of the Body Snatchers or some shit,” Sam declared, rising from his chair.

“Hold on, Sam,” Steve placated, lifting a hand to the advancing man. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to Bucky’s good mood lately.”

Bucky set his jaw in frustration, the muscles ticking. He wasn’t a Pod Person. He was just happy, for the first time in seventy-five years.

His phone went off again.

(Y/N) Would you rather sneeze once every hour, on the hour, or burp every time you saw an attractive girl?

A wide smile split his mouth as he scanned the screen.

Bucky Am I sneezing in my sleep or just when I’m awake?

When Bucky brought his gaze back up to his teammates, he noticed Natasha’s own eyes flick down to his phone. The slightest smirk curved the corner of her lips.

“It’s curious,” she said, a perfect eyebrow inched higher to her hairline. “All the people you text are in this room, yet, you haven’t been able to pull yourself away from your phone.” Her eye contact never wavered from Bucky’s face. “Don’t ya think that’s odd, fellas?”

“Natalia,” Bucky warned, his voice gruff. He knew she was fishing.

Sam laughed boisterously. “Yeah, I noticed that the other day. It’s glued to your hip nowadays.”

“It could be anyone from the team, guys,” Steve reasoned. “I bet it’s Tony.”

Bucky became increasingly agitated as the redhead slinked closer, passing his phone back and forth between his hands.

Natasha shook her head in the negative. “Nuh-uh,” she said, leaning against the counter directly beside Bucky. A hair’s breadth of space separated their shoulders from one another. Tipping back, with her elbows propped against the hard surface, she kicked her legs out casually and crossed her feet at the ankle. “Those two have barely said two words to each other since the good Sergeant here was welcomed back into the fold. It’s not Tony.”

“That still doesn’t prove anything,” Steve replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I bet it’s a girl,” Sam said in a sing-song voice. “But, where would Ice Man here meet a girl?”

Natasha smiled while looking at Sam as he stepped closer to the trio. “Let’s find out, shall we?” She nodded to Sam and, without batting an eye, lunged at Bucky.

She tapped the underside of the hand holding the phone, causing the device to flip up into the air.

Though he hadn’t seen the attack coming, Bucky’s reflexes were cat-like, and he easily caught the phone in his opposite hand.

Unfortunately, Natasha was just as quick and knocked the phone from his hand again. She effortlessly swatted it out of the air and into her hand. As Bucky clamored to retrieve the cell phone, she swung her arm behind her back and tossed it into the waiting hands of Sam.

By looking at Sam’s broad smile, Bucky knew he was having a field day at his expense. He pounced on his teammate, grappling for possession of the device. He wasn’t sorry for elbowing the other man harder than he ever would if they were sparring each other. He needed his fucking phone back!

Sam managed to flick the phone over his other shoulder in the process of Bucky grabbing ahold of Sam’s wrist and twisting the same arm behind his body. It clattered to the ground at Steve’s feet.

As everyone stared at the cell phone lying prone on the tile floor, Sam backed Bucky into the cabinets, trapping him with his body. “Let me go, Bird Brain!” Bucky huffed.

Steve bent to pick the phone up, holding it in his hand. Bucky could see the war playing within Steve’s blue eyes as he struggled against Sam. Steve was just as curious as the other two but didn’t want to betray his friend.

Natasha quickly snatched the device from Steve and started thumbing at the screen.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Steve protested.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to put a passcode on your phone, Barnes?” Natasha tsked as she navigated to the messaging app.

Bucky knew the exact second she found what she was looking for because her eyes became comically wide. A feral, shit-eating grin crossed her mouth as she raised a brow again.

“Tell me about (Y/N).”

“What?” Steve questioned, crowding the red head. “Lemme see.”

Bucky felt his cheeks go aflame as Natasha angled the screen so Steve could see the message thread. They burned hotter as Steve looked up with his own shit-eating smirk.

“Well, well…” Sam piped up. “If your faces are anything to go by, Vanilla Ice’s still got game.” Bucky twisted his arm back further in retaliation causing Sam to grunt in discomfort.

Bucky watched as Natasha’s thumb skimmed along the screen to delve deeper into past messages. Her thumb stopped as she read a passage; her green eyes rapidly followed the lines of text.

“I always kinda figured you’d be into someone that would call you out on your BS. She sounds fun,” Natasha said as she continued to scroll.

“No one’s into anyone. We’re just friends,” Bucky murmured.

Steve’s head shot up to stare at his best friend, sorrow painting his features. He edged away from Natasha. “Does she know who you are?” he asked.

Bucky shook his head no. “And she never will.”

“Aww, but you guys sound so cute together,” Natasha pouted. Bucky frowned at the insinuation. It couldn’t ever happen.

“There aren’t any rules saying we can’t date,” Natasha mentioned. “Hell, you know how many times I tried to set up this big lug?” She motioned to Steve with her thumb.

“That’s different,” Bucky said after a few moments. He eased up slightly on Sam’s arm.

“How so?”

Bucky rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, the blush starting again. “He’s Captain America, and well, I’m not. Not exactly everyone’s favorite.” He downcast his eyes to the floor.

“Buck, you know that’s not true,” Steve said woefully. “It’ll just take some time.”

“I know, Stevie. Until then, though, I’m still a pariah.”

The super soldier serum couldn’t have been given to a better person, but Bucky always felt like he would be trapped in Steve’s shadow, no matter the amount of good he did. He would still feel weak for what Hydra did to him, or not good enough to be labeled Captain America’s best friend.

Feeling the room take a considerable turn toward somber, Natasha called out, “Holy shit, Barnes! You used Wilson’s toothbrush to clean your toilet?”

“What?!” all three male voices cried out.

Sam rushed forward, trying to see the proof for himself. “You’re a dead man!”

Freed from the weight of Sam’s body, Bucky leaped forward toward Natasha and Sam. Slamming into Sam’s back, he snaked an arm around the other man, reaching frantically for his phone. He was done with them spying on his non-existent personal life.

Bucky smacked against Sam’s hands and arms, trying to dislodge the device.

“Stop!” Sam bellowed. “You’re hitting me like an eleven-year-old girl!”

“Gimme back my phone!” Bucky shouted.

Suddenly, the sound of ringing filled the small space of the kitchen. The scuffling stopped in an instant as everyone tried to figure out where the noise was coming from. Sam glimpsed down at his hands and jumped apart from Bucky as if he’d been burned. He looked horrified!

“Oh, shit!” Sam exclaimed, shoving the phone back at Bucky.

“What did you do?!” Bucky screeched when he realized the ringing was coming from his phone on speaker.

The sound ended abruptly, only to be replaced with the gentle tinkle of a woman’s voice.

“James?”

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

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#drunk texting is(n't) bad for your health #dtibfyh #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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taetaespeaches · 4 years ago

Text

“Thank you for not giving up three years ago.”

hoseok x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.7K

a/n: I’m not even gonna lie, lovelies, this is a bit of a mess lol. But it’s hectic and so is moving into a new place, so I guess it’s fitting? This takes place pretty much where “Wherever we go, we’ll be home” left off. Hobi and Petal/reader are moved in to their new place but they are far from unpacked and yeah. It’s random but I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :))

(brief moments of kookie and poopsie in here as well.)

p.s. holy shit this is the last fic of the two-week uploads for each member?! What the fuck?? Thanks to everyone who rode this out with and waited for every fic and supported me throughout and ugh I just love you all so much. Thank you, lovelies <3

TAKING a moment to scan the piles of boxes scattered across the mostly unfurnished apartment, you lifted one of the box flaps before pulling a face of disgust, flipping it back shut. If only the cardboard cubes could unpack themselves.

“You look overwhelmed,” your boyfriend suddenly spoke just moments before his arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders. A kiss was pressed to your cheek bone as you turned to look at him, the man quickly pushing his lips to yours as you turned in his arms, wrapping yours around his waist.

“I think I have too many things,” you thought out loud, Hoseok smiling softly as he shook his head.

“Nah, you just have a lot of things,” he teased, you giggling as you pressed your lips to his once more.

“Remind me, why did we decide to do this to ourselves?” You jokingly complained about the task of unpacking and moving in.

“Mmm,” he hummed in thought. “I think it has something to do with you being obsessed with me and wanting me around all the time,” he smirked.

“Ohhh,” you responded, dragging the word out as you nodded. “Right,” you noted in an unconvinced tone. “Something like that,” you agreed, Hoseok giggling as he pecked your lips a few times quickly.

“We just about have it all unloaded, Jungkook should be able to haul the rest of it up,” he informed you, your eyes widening in surprise, though your response was contained to a simple nod. “I’m gonna go down and check on everything,” he told you, placing a sweet kiss to your nose before stepping away, you allowing him to slip out of your embrace as you watched him leave.

Moving may be an overwhelming task but goddamn that man made it all worth it. Looking around the apartment, with your mind stuck on Hoseok, you decided indefinitely that you would move a million times for him.

Having decided together to replace most of your old furniture with new stuff you picked out together, the space was rather empty, the carboard boxes being the only things filling the room. To make the living area feel more like home, more like you and Hoseok, you were hit with the sudden desire to set out a photo. One particular photo. The first photo you two had ever taken together, which was on your first date at a carnival. Searching the boxes, you tried to find the one that was labeled with ‘picture frames’.

Wandering around the entire living area, you couldn’t seem to find the box anywhere. “Well fuck,” you sighed to yourself, a sudden giggle sounding to the side of the room, your eyes darting to find Jungkook smiling in amusement.

“All good?” He asked, you nodding with a faint smile.

“Have you seen a box with the words ‘picture frames’ on it?” You asked, the man squinting as he thought to himself.

“Uh, no,” he concluded apologetically, still carrying the box in his arms that looked increasingly heavy. “I’m assuming it has picture frames in it,” he smirked, you widening your eyes to feign impression.

“How did you kn-”

“Kookie, are you carrying dishes right now?” Jin’s girlfriend asked him as she stepped into the room from another area of the apartment. Jungkook looked at her with a guilty smile making you giggle lightly. Apparently, he and his accomplice Taehyung had broken almost all of her dishes when helping her to move into her new apartment a few years ago and she was making it her mission to keep the same thing from happening to your own kitchenware.

“Have you been in here this whole time?” You asked her in confusion, the girl looking at you with a serious expression.

“Yeah? You and Hobi are cute,” she noted nonchalantly, you staring at her in disbelief. “I banned you from carrying those,” she reminded Jungkook, the man shooting her a mischievous grin as he walked to the kitchen to place the box on the counter gently.

“I’m redeeming myself,” he informed her before gesturing to the untainted box with a wave of his arm. “Consider me redeemed,” he joked, you lightly chuckling as you looked back to the room, searching for that one specific box among the disarray.

“Is there more to bring up?” The girl asked, you looking back to them to see Jungkook shake his head.

“No, that should be it,” he noted. “Pretty much everyone is gone already. And when I left them your freak and my weirdo were stealing the moving truck keys from Yoongi and threatening to drop it back off at the garage themselves,” he giggled, Jin’s girlfriend smiling as she shook her head.

“Why are they like this?” She asked as you laughed lightly at the thought of them tossing the keys over Yoongi’s head, including him in unwanted game of monkey in the middle.

“Is Hobi down there?” You asked Jungkook, the man shaking his head.

“He went to get you guys dinner,” he informed you, you pulling your eyebrows together in perplexity.

“He did?” You questioned. “We should be buying you all dinner,” you told them guiltily, feeling bad that they had used up most of their day helping you and Hoseok to move. However, both of your friends instantly shook their heads as they started negating your comment in a back and forth that would have seemed rehearsed if you didn’t know better.

“Absolutely not,” the girl told you.

“That’s ridiculous,” Jungkook spoke.

“You already bought lunch,” she said.

“Don’t be silly,” Jungkook finished.

Smiling in amusement at the two, you rolled your eyes. “Ok, well Hobi and I are having you over for dinner soon,” you reminded them as they began making their way to your new front door. “As soon as this place is put together,” you gestured to the mess of yours and Hoseok’s belongings.

“Looking forward to it,” the girl said sweetly as they prepared to exit the apartment. “You’re sure you don’t need help with anything else?” She asked, you shaking your head as you shooed them out.

“You’ve done enough, just go and enjoy your evening.” Looking to Jungkook, you found him smirking, making you eye him skeptically.

“Your dishes should be in good shape, I only dropped them once,” he joked, you instantly laughing at him as Jin’s girlfriend groaned.

“Jungkook,” she warned as he began jogging down the hallway away from her, an adorable but bratty giggle leaving his lips. “Oh, that picture frame box is in your guys’ bedroom,” she informed you, and maybe you should have been surprised by her random intuition and knowledge, but you’d known the girl long enough to know not to question her. Without another word she began running after Jungkook, leaving you as you called out one last thank you.

Shutting the door, you smiled to yourself, a sincere sense of gratitude and happiness settling in as you took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. This was your home. You lived with Hoseok. This was your life.

Hauling a bag stuffed full of blankets, you made your way to the living room as the front door opened, Hoseok stepping inside, his hands full with a pizza box and a… fish bowl?

Cocking your head at him, you set the bag and blanket you pulled out on the floor before slowly walking toward him.

“Petal,” he greeted cheerfully, “I’m home! With food,” he added, nodding his chin down toward the pizza box. “Whoah, home,” he realized the words he spoke as he looked around the room, his eyes landing on you, his gaze full of love and contentment.

“Uh, are we having fish with our pizza?” You asked jokingly, though the man appeared lost in thought as he stared at you fondly.

“I can’t believe we live here together,” he spoke softly, your lips curving up at how cute he was.

“Hoseok,” you called out to pull him from his thoughts, his eyes widening to show his responsiveness. “The fish.”

Your boyfriend followed your gaze downward to the fish bowl with a little gold fish swimming around it. Chuckling at himself, a bashful glow meeting his cheeks, he nodded at it for you to take off the pizza box.

“Well,” he started, you stifling a smile as you held the bowl in your hands in front of your face, looking at the little fish swimming around energetically. “It’s your housewarming gift,” he told you, an endeared laugh leaving your lips.

“You got me another fish?” You asked, cooing at how fucking cute he was. The combination of his disbelief over the new state of your relationship and living arrangement, along with getting you a new pet goldfish had you wanting to reach out and pepper kisses all across his face.

“I just thought, you know, you loved Luna,” he explained shyly. “I don’t know, a new home, new family member,” he shrugged, you pouting at him as you peered at him from around the fish bowl.

“I did love Luna,” you told him, the man smiling more fondly than ever at you. He won you a fish in a carnival game during that damn first date and it ended up being your flat mate for a year before its eventual passing. You smiled shyly as you thought back to day Hobi came over to visit you only to find you crying at the discovery that your little fish Luna had died while you were at class.

“Why are you so thoughtful?” You asked him, walking to the kitchen counter to set the fish tank down, bending down to continue looking inside the tank. Setting the pizza box on the counterspace next to the fish bowl, Hoseok crouched down with you, both of you peering at the new ‘family member’. So fucking cute.

“What are you thinking for a name?” He asked, you turning toward him as you smiled.

“Maybe,” you thought for a moment, “Yue? Like in Avatar,” you suggested, referring to the princess who sacrificed her life, becoming the spirit of the moon. Looking back to the fish, your boyfriend continued staring at you lovingly.

Leaning toward you, he left a kiss to your cheek, you leaning into the simple gesture of affection. “Is that paying homage to Luna?” He asked, you smiling without looking at him as you stood up, Hoseok looking up at you for a moment. “God, you’re fucking cute,” he told you.

Standing up straight, he grabbed your face between his hands gently, bringing his lips to yours as he kissed you sweetly, the touch lingering as he pulled away. Clasping your hands over his wrists, you ensured he didn’t move his hands away from your face as you looked at him fondly.

“Thank you for this,” you pouted. “I love it,” you referred to the fish. “And you,” you informed him, Hoseok leaning forward once more to kiss your lips slowly and sweetly. “You know, I got you a housewarming present too,” you told him, piquing the man’s interest as his eyes widened. “It’s a bit different than this though,” you gestured to the fish, Hoseok smiling in amusement. Pulling his hands from your face, you left a sweet kiss to the inside of one of his wrists before leaving him to go to the bedroom to retrieve your gift. “We can eat on the rollout mattress,” you called out as you disappeared momentarily into the the bedroom, Hoseok’s eyes landing on the living room floor where you had set out a sleeping pad.

By the time you reentered the living room, Hoseok was seated on the mattress with the box of pizza, his gaze directed to the side of the temporary bed where you had placed the framed photo of you both on your first date. His eyes slowly left the picture to look at you standing a few feet away with a bottle of champagne in one and and a gift bag in the other.

“I figured we should celebrate,” you smiled, Hoseok chuckling as he nodded. “I don’t know where our champagne flutes are, but we can just drink it from the bottle,” you decided as you admired your boyfriend’s stunning smile.

Gesturing to the picture frame sitting on the hardwood floor, he beamed at you. “Do you know how much I love you?” He asked you, you smiling with a nod.

“Yes, Sunshine,” you confirmed, “I do know.” Holding his hands out to gesture for you to join him on the mattress, you handed him the bag. He raised it to his eye level, curious of its contents.

“Good,” he said simply, lowering the gift to the mattress. “Also, this set up is cute, it feels like a sleepover,” he added, you giggling fondly at the comment. “Except we live here,” he realized once again, both of you smiling excitedly over the fact that you actually lived together.

“Your family is dropping Mickey off tomorrow, right?” You asked suddenly, the man nodding as you took the hand he offered you, allowing him to help you onto your knees, you kneeling next to him. “Good, I miss him,” you said, Hoseok smiling widely.

“I know, me too,” he agreed. “Do you want me to open this?” He asked you, gesturing to the bag, you humming in confirmation. The man wasted no time in pulling the tissue paper out of the way, reaching inside to feel the soft, sheer material. Cocking his head, he lifted his hand out of the bag, the brand-new lingerie set slowly appearing as he held it between his fingertips.

“Oh,” he breathed out, his eyes glued to the pretty white material, embroidered with flowers, the set a lot cuter and daintier than your typical choice. “My god.”

“I thought we could break the place in,” you told him softly before biting your bottom lip.

“This is different,” he noted dumbly, pointing out the stray in your typical choice of sexy undergarments.

“I know,” you smiled. “I thought you’d like it,” you noted, leaning in to place a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, causing you to giggle as you kissed his cheek.

“Do you want to eat first?” You teasingly asked, the man giving you an incredulous look as he shoved the pizza box off the mattress until it landed on the wooden floorboards, you laughing as he then rolled atop you, kissing you deeply. Your fingers found themselves tangled up in Hobi’s hair as you kissed him back passionately.

The lingerie didn’t even touch your skin that night, both of you too eager and excited and so fucking in love to bother with getting all dressed up. But each round was perfect as you made love throughout the apartment, taking pizza and champagne breaks between climaxes. And the beautiful thing was that you had endless opportunities to wear that lingerie for Hoseok. Because you actually lived together.

You had a lifetime of possibilities together. Without a single doubt in your mind, you knew moving in together at that exact point in time was the right move to make in your relationship. Three years earlier, you would never have believed a single soul who told you that you would be living with Hoseok. But there you were, celebrating your new home with him, the love of your life, feeling beyond thankful for him and his persistence three years prior.

Exhausted on the rollout mattress, bottle of champagne pressed to your lips as you eyed Hoseok’s nude form, glistening with the sweat of several rounds with you, you chuckled to yourself. The man’s eyes found your own, his hand moving to take the bottle from you.

“What are you laughing at?” He asked fondly before bringing the bottle to his own mouth.

Shaking your head, you moved to straddle the man, his free hand easily wrapping around your lower back. “Just thinking,” you told him just before placing a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for not giving up three years ago,” you told him, Hobi’s lips slowly curving up into a fond grin.

“Well,” he chuckled bashfully. “The displeasure’s been mine,” he teased, you scrunching your nose as you took the bottle from him again. “You’re still mean, but fuck, I love you,” he playfully told you.

Taking a drink from the bottle, you nodded. “And you’re still obnoxious, but I love you too,” you replied. “So much, Sunshine.”

A lifetime of possibilities with Hoseok was something you’d never take for granted, and you would forever be thanking him for winning you over; for allowing you to fall in love with him.

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gretchensinister · 4 years ago

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I want Megamind sequel

Listen, normally I don’t want sequels, and normally I REALLY don’t like sequel babies, but I have to make an exception for Megamind.

So, we start off, Roxanne and Megamind getting married (maybe Minion officiates?) and there’s a tease at the “interrupted wedding” trope, but Megamind has GOT THIS and the wedding gets done all official-like. Then there’s a montage, setting up a house, Roxanne still being a reporter, Megamind doing superhero-y things, Roxanne is pregnant, and then finally there’s a little half-human baby. Hooray!

Except that it turns out that caring for a newborn when a couple is a reporter and a ex-supervillain-now-superhero is actually really difficult! Especially because these very threatening robot drones are now showing up in the city like, all the time. They need help. But Minion can’t be the one to be the babysitter because he’s taking some time to see the world now and learn how to be his own fish, even if Megamind is still his best friend.

So it’s like, “who do we know who has a lot of free time and would be able to protect our baby from any harm?”

Obviously…MetroMusicMan! Hooray!

So that’s working out great. (And like, for anyone who is willing to see it, it’s very clear also that this is developing into a throuple situation. First with Megamind at the apex of a V, but while Roxanne and Metroman were never a couple, now with Megamind also there…)

Anyway one day Metroman and the baby are at the park and there’s just…a little tension with some people. Not most people. But not zero people. The baby’s blue. She (I’ve decided the baby should be a girl) is visibly not entirely human. She’s too young to notice, but Metroman does, and he’s (badly) singing her a song about like, ignoring people like that, when one of the threatening robot drones lands in the park and scans them both before Metroman can even react. Then it zooms off.

And the next day an alien mothership shows up calling for Earth to give up the [y]ian and half-[y]ian and the [z]ian. And Roxanne immediately makes herself spokesperson and is like “WTF why?”

And it turns out that it wasn’t a random disaster that destroyed Megamind’s and Metroman’s worlds. They were destroyed deliberately by these aliens for no reason, essentially, other than “being weird and gross. You kept…mingling.” The evil aliens admit to starting a war between Megamind and Metroman’s worlds to keep them apart, but it didn’t work perfectly and [y]ians and [z]ians kept crossing lines even after most [y]ians and [z]ians traditionally hated each other. So they decided to blow up both planets. But it’s no loss! They have all the music, history, and art of the planets stored on this crystal macguffin! And ever since they’ve been moving through the galaxy hunting down any [y]ians and [z]ians who were off-planet/got away.

WELL THIS IS A BOMBSHELL.

And the evil aliens really don’t see a problem with what they’re doing because they’ve gotten away with it for so long.

They give Earth a time limit to give up Megamind, the baby, and Metroman before they come down to get them, but then one of the evil aliens looks closely at the drone data and is like “wait…the other half of that baby is an Earthling. You have also…mingled.”

And there’s like some argument among the evil aliens but eventually they’re like “we will spare the Earth, as long as no one does anything like this EVER AGAIN”

And Roxanne is like “You can’t tell people what to do like that!”

And then the evil aliens halve the time limit.

Meanwhile, Minion has returned from vacation to find Megamind and Metroman in various states of shock and franticness in Megamind’s new lair, passing the baby back and forth and like WE NEED A PLAN But something the evil aliens did has made it clear that neither of their usual approaches is going to work

Roxanne comes back, there’s more freaking out, and part of that is her saying of course they’re not going to give up anybody, especially not THE BABY and listing off various human things that she wants their daughter to experience.

And Megamind agrees but also like…he didn’t even know the name of the alien species he came from until today. The evil aliens have all that [y]ian stuff on the mothership. And Metroman, shouldn’t he also know more about [z]ians?

So blah blah blah “They don’t want us to face them together—but we will!”

Except for the baby. Minion gets to have a turn babysitting this time.

So then there’s a big cool action scene where Megamind and Roxanne and Metroman fight the evil aliens, get the macguffin with all of the [y]ian and [z]ian culture on it…and also, as a surprise, whatever thing the evil aliens were using to find [y]ians and [z]ians. Actually, yeah, also that tech is stolen from another planet the evil aliens blew up, so they can’t rebuild it and continue their evil mission.

The day is saved! Big hugs with Megamind in the middle! Even the people from the park are more chill now!

Credits scenes: Roxanne trying not to roll her eyes as she reports on a “mysterious new villain” that only fights Megamind in deserted areas outside the city (It’s Metroman. He missed using his powers.)

Pictures: the baby and Megamind in matching weird alien outfits, the baby and Metroman in different matching weird alien outfits, labelled things like “Baby’s first flksfjioed!”

Wheeling the [y]ian and [z]ian detector into a half-constructed spaceship. Minion in an upgraded robot body because he’s super into travel now—some ambiguous brief convo about how Megamind’s needed on Earth—

Ship landing, triad and toddler with a welcome sign and—the door opens and more [y]ians and [z]ians come out! (AND MINION HAS A FISH PARTNER NOW! WHAT!)

This scene is happy but also like super emotional obviously! And—oh yeah. The daughter is an older sister by now. But there’s something about this second blue-ish baby’s design…

(That ambiguous convo about Megamind being needed on Earth—well, the macguffin crystal explained A LOT that they didn’t know, and the second blue baby is Megamind and Metroman’s. Megamind couldn’t go off planet because he was pregnant. DON’T @ me, Treasure Planet initially had Dr. Doppler carrying the epilogue babies. Anyway it would still only be implied/only present in rumors from various creatives who worked on the movie.)

And we end with happy triad for everyone with eyes to see it, Metroman as permanent babysitter and sparring partner (for dinguses), and hopefully restoring cultures for all!

And now I’m sad that this movie will never exist.

#megamind #alas it is not to be...

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kim-bobbae · 4 years ago

Text

12. “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

Where you’re a dancer/choreographer cum YouTuber pulling the ‘I want a baby now’ hidden camera prank on him, inspired by some of the Korean couple YouTube channels that I’ve watched where the boyfriend goes ‘wtf’ most of the time hahaha. Hope y’all enjoy it! :-)

“For the first verse, why don’t we have Jay and Ji Eun do a little duet choreography?” Wassup suggested much to everyone else’s agreement.

“That’ll work,” Honey J nodded. “The next verse would look fuller with a group choreography, so the first verse would be the best fit.”

You took a quick glance at Jay through the reflection in the mirror who simply shrugged in response, face void of any expression whatsoever and upon seeing that he wasn’t responding, the rest of them turned their attention towards you to which you nervously cleared your throat, “Sure, let’s go with that.”

You were at the AOMG dance studio with Jay’s dancers from Alter Ego and Holy Bang for a practice session in preparation for the upcoming filming of his ‘All the Way Up’ music video. The excitement of finally collaborating with Jay after years of dating sure as hell got you feeling excited all week…if it weren’t for the little argument that you guys had gotten into this morning due to a hidden camera prank gone wrong which had him leaving the house without you.

“A baby? All of sudden? Where is this even coming from?” He asked, utterly confused.

There he was on the couch replying to some emails when you had simply gone up to him and said ‘let’s have a baby’ out of literally nowhere which had him absolutely dumbfounded, to say the least.

“Well we’ve been dating for a few years, and I’m not getting any younger,” You started. “We’re in our freaking 30s…!”

“So…?” He asked, furrowing his brows at you as he put his laptop aside and tapped on his lap, signaling for you to come over.

“I love you enough to want to have a family with you, and I don’t want to get pregnant when I’m 40,” You explained, your acting skills put to the test as you tried your hardest to hold back a laughter watching how serious he had gotten.

“Babe…didn’t we agree on getting married first before thinking about starting a family?”

“But that’s what you’ve been saying for the past two years, and…” You said, successfully pulling off a sulk as you raised your left hand in front of his face, pointing to your ring finger. “I ain’t got no ring on it.”

“Okay hold up,” He said, hands on your lap. “So it’s about marriage now? What on earth are you trying to get at?”

“I just want to have a baby with you.”

“…what?”

He was gawking at you by now, bewildered by your sudden marriage-and-baby talk. Of course, the both of you had spoken about this before where he had made it clear that he had every intention of marrying you – just not now. From his two labels to his several businesses, he just had too much on his plate to think about settling down. He didn’t want to get married nor start a family without being able to fully commit his time to you as he felt that it just wouldn’t be fair to you and you knew that – he had made sure you did.

While how seriously he was taking this conversation did have you feeling a little flustered, the all too familiar beep that penetrated the momentary silence only made things worse as your entire body tensed up in panic, Jay shooting his head up as his eyes scanned the room. Having helped you with the filming of some of your YouTube content, he knew exactly what that beep meant – it was your camera running out of battery.

His face hardened as he spotted the red blinking light from your camera that you had hid behind stacks of magazines in the dark corner of a shelf across the room and he shifted in his seat, gesturing for you to get off his lap before he walked over to retrieve it.

“What’s going on?” He asked, looking at the camera in his hand and then back at you. He was not amused and you definitely weren’t expecting things to pan out this way.

“It was a hidden camera prank,” You explained with a sheepish smile.

“You got to be kidding me.”

“It was the most highly requested video for the longest time!” You said, trying to defend yourself.

On top of the choreographies that made up the bulk of your YouTube content, you tended to vlog from time to time, showing little snippets of your daily life varying from simply hanging out with your friends or the creative process for the collaborations that you did with other artists. However, ever since your relationship with Jay had gone public last year, the majority of your new subscribers have been his fans with many leaving comments on your videos requesting for you to include more of Jay in your videos.

It started off simple with you filming some of your dates and backstage moments with his artists but every now and then, you’d respond to some of their hidden camera prank suggestions to which Jay had reacted to very sportingly. After all, it was entertaining for everyone and more than anything, he was glad that you and his fans were starting to get along despite the initial backlash that you received when news of your relationship first broke out.

“There is a time and place for everything and the conversation we had really isn’t something meant for anyone else to listen to,” He stated.

Yes, he was a fairly private person, especially when it came to his relationship with you. He had always made it a point to ensure that his appearances on your videos were never too intrusive, too.

“What were you expecting to get out of this? If I had gone along with it we’d be filming porn by now,” He said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You really had to interrupt me while I was working for this? C’mon…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t kno- I mean, I didn’t mean it and- …I’m sorry,” You whispered.

For a while he simply stared at you, at a loss for words before he let out a sigh of resignation, “I need to cool off. Call Dukhwa if you need a ride to the office later.”

Without any opportunity to iron things out with Jay prior to the dance practice as he kept himself busy in his office right up to the minute prior (you weren’t going to risk aggravating things by knocking on his door and interrupting his work again after all), you were left without a choice but to attend practice putting on a professional front, the both of you trying your best to put the incident behind as you guys worked on the duet choreography together.

“What do you think of simplifying the shuffle to a side step? I think it’ll look cleaner,” You said.

“Yeah okay.”

“Should we do a wave for this part?”

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

Despite most of the practice progressing rather smoothly, the awkward air between the two of you did get a little obvious with how stiff you guys were at any physical contact. His chic responses in comparison to how he’d enthusiastically contribute ideas when he was speaking with the rest of the dancers was also a dead giveaway. Nevertheless, you powered through the five-hour practice and you couldn’t be more relieved the moment it ended, although it didn’t last for long as everyone packed up quickly and shot each other knowing glances to leave the studio to give you and Jay some time alone.

The silence was thick as you packed up your belongings, Jay sitting with his back against the mirror while he watched you in silence.

“About this afternoon,” You finally spoke, picking up your bag before turning around to look at him. “I’m really sorry. I just want you to know that I would’ve made sure you knew about the footage after I was done filming, and that I’d only use it if you were comfortable sharing it with the public.”

“It’s not that I’ll be uncomfortable with it,” He explained. “It’s just that the internet would have a whole bunch of opinions about our relationship, marriage and family planning.”

You nodded, your gaze falling to look at his feet instead.

“As for me, I don’t really care about what they’ll have to say and you know that. I’m just worried that you’ll be affected and the last thing I want is for all the success that you’ve built from your dancing and career to be overshadowed by something as silly as this.”

He then stood up, taking your bag off your shoulders and setting it on the floor before he murmured a soft ‘come here’, pulling you in for a hug and kissing the side of your face.

“I’m sorry,” You told him, relaxing into his touches.

You were just glad to have gotten the tension out of the way after working around it for the whole day. Fights with Jay weren’t common and you were just not used to him being angry or upset despite how long you guys have been together. He was never too proud to apologize nor forgive and if you had to choose one thing you loved most about him, that’d be it.

“I’ll put a ring on it and have babies with you,” He chuckled. “Just be a bit more patient, I’m working on it I swear.”

“I know,” You laughed, then buried your face in his chest in embarrassment.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other maintained its hold around your waist, “Heading home?”

“Yeah, you?”

“I’m meeting Pumpkin in a bit for a meeting. I’ll see you at home after, and we can think of something else to film for your video this week.”

You smiled, giving him a peck on his lips before you wriggled out of his grip. “I shouldn’t hold you up any longer then.”

“Shall I get someone to drive you home?”

“No it’s fine, don’t worry about me,” You said, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“Well then,” He said, grabbing his jacket from the bench and handing it to you. “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

“What about you?”

“I have another one in my office,” He said with a smile, then waved you off.

“Alright,” You giggled. “I’ll see you later then, don’t keep me waiting too long.”

#Jay Park #jay park scenarios #jay park drabbles #AOMG #aomg reactions #aomg scenarios #khh #khh scenarios #khh imagines #khh reactions #park jaebum #park jaebeom

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transitverse · 4 years ago

Text

Eggshells: Chapter 9

WORDS: 2011 CHAPTERS: 9/9 CHARACTERS: Aubrey, Kaveh CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Soundtrack: Great No One - The Beths

Aubrey ends up staying with you for six weeks. You do swing by her apartment briefly, once, just to make sure everything's still in order (as best as she left it) and nobody's wrecked the place (they haven't). It feels weird, the day she packs all her stuff up for good, knowing as you drive her home that she won't be going back with you. You'll miss having her around.

Her absence has not made her room any less of a trash hole. While Aubrey seems happy to be back in her own space, dumping her bag by the bed and flopping onto the mattress, you find yourself eyeing the stacks of empty food packaging, the discarded clothing strewn across the floor, the fact that her bed is still just a mattress on the bare ground. Not a lot you can do about that last one, but you can certainly help with the first two.

"We should clean this place up a little." You're already picking up a bunch of plastic bottles, scanning the room for a bin only to grimace when you open it and find it already jammed full. You'd put money on her not having emptied it since she moved in. "Okay, so, from the top, then. You've got garbage bags, right?"

You look back at Aubrey, who's eyeing you from her spot on the bed.

"You don't have to help me clean."

"No, but I want to. Aubrey, this place is kind of a tip.” She looks no less convinced. “Trust me. This is how you get a rat problem. And you'll feel better being in a tidy room."

She stares at you a few seconds more, but then sighs, accepting--as she's come to so often--that you're talking sense. "Okay. Sure. They're in the drawer, there, on the end."

She's got a lot of trash, but thankfully, by virtue of her eating habits, it’s not gross to have to deal with. You swap the old bag out, and clearing away what's left around the room only takes a matter of minutes. Clothes come next, and it's almost as easy. She doesn't have a laundry basket, but she doesn’t really have a lot of clothes, either; it all fits into a single garbage bag, ready to haul downstairs. With that done, all that's left is the actual cleaning. The place is lived-in , and there's some grime that you're never going to be able to scrub away, but you can fix the dust and cobwebs and some of the surface-level dirt.

Or, you could, if Aubrey had any cleaning supplies.

She’s uncertain where to even begin, when you have her in the home supplies aisle at the nearest supermarket; admittedly, you expect the rows upon rows of neon bottles with their flashy labels would be daunting to face for someone who grew up in a dysfunctional household where these things weren't a priority. You walk her through the basic necessities, arm yourselves, and head back home to tackle your prime objective.

Cleaning one single, relatively small room with minimal furnishings is a manageable task, at least. A vacuum would be great, but you do an okay job with a good old-fashioned broom and dust catchers. The bathroom takes a little more work, and you almost freak out about Aubrey giving herself chemical burns until she points out the obvious. Still, it’s a big improvement all-round. Aubrey is flagging by the end of it, but you can’t blame her; she’s not done anything remotely strenuous for the entire time she’s been with you.

“I think it’s time to eat,” you announce, propping the broom up against the nearest wall. (Note to self: get her some hooks or something to hang this stuff on.) “God, you know what? I would kill for some ramen right now.”

“I thought you didn’t like that stuff.”

“Wh--Oh, no, no, like, real ramen. Good ramen,” you laugh. “I mean, you can jazz up the instant stuff in a pinch, but if you want good ramen, you make it from scratch.” You glance over your shoulder at her unused kitchen, then back at Aubrey. “Okay, we should go get that laundry out, but if I run out and get the ingredients, can I whip something up here?”

“Sure. Can I come with you?”

“What, like I’d leave you waiting around on your own? Yeah, of course. C’mon.”

***

A visit to the dingy basement laundry room and another quick sweep around the supermarket later, and you’re back in the apartment, dumping your shopping haul down on the counter and poking around in the cupboards for the necessary cooking equipment. Fortunately, Aubrey does have a few pots and pans, and a small set of knives and other utensils, so you put some water on to boil and get to work.

“Can I help?”

You glance up at Aubrey, hovering a few feet away.

“Sure. Here.” You scoot on over towards the stove and hand her the knife you were about to start chopping up spring onions with. “If you wanna start chopping these up--pretty small--and then you can do the chillies and the onion.”

“Like--” She makes the first cut at the base, then hovers the knife uncertainly a little further up the stalk. “Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

It’s like the affirmation flips a switch. While you’re busy slinging oil into a pan and mixing the broth, Aubrey chops away with a deftness you didn’t expect from someone with so little experience in a kitchen. An added benefit of her sharp reflexes, maybe. Or perhaps those cybernetics offer her more control over her fine motor skills. Either way, you soon forget about it, too busy focusing on seasoning the indistinct slab of vat-grown beef you drop into the pan to sear and adding the noodles to the broth.

It’s cramped, with the two of you operating in a kitchen space half the size of the one back at your apartment, but you manage, explaining along the way all the little tricks you know to jazz up instant noodles with cheaper ingredients, should the mood ever strike her. Aubrey nicks herself, once, but it’s worse for the knife than it is for her finger.

Eventually, you’re all done, plated up, and just overseeing Aubrey as she peels the shells away from the boiled eggs and carefully slices them in half.

“Wait, wait,” you stop her, as she moves to drop the first egg into the bowl. “One half of each in each bowl.”

“Why?”

You… laugh, because you realise nobody’s ever actually asked you about this habit before, and now you feel a little bit silly.

“It’s just a thing my mom used to do. She said it was good luck to share them, something like that.”

Aubrey scrunches her face up. “Why?”

“I don’t know! She just did. C’mon, just do it. I’m hungry.”

Aubrey still looks unconvinced, but she obliges and splits both eggs between the bowls. And with that, you’re all done; you carefully carry the fruits of your labour to the coffee table, seated on pillows in lieu of chairs.

“Well, this turned out to be a pretty good day, huh?” You’re already spearing a chunk of meat on your fork, jamming some greens on the end and trying (unsuccessfully) to catch some noodles to top it off as you lift it up out of the bowl.

“Yeah. It was.” Aubrey smiles, even though she’s pushing her meal around in the bowl like she doesn’t really know where to start with it. Eventually, she goes for the egg. She nearly drips the yolk down herself and you have to try really hard not to laugh, lest you choke on your own mouthful.

“Good?” you ask, once you’ve swallowed and are no longer at risk of aspirating. “Or, I mean--as good as it can be for you, I guess.”

“No, it’s… yeah. It’s good.” She nods and wipes some of the stray yolk off her lip. “It smells amazing.”

“I’ll take that.” You chuckle, without almost dying, this time. “This is almost, like, a housewarming. A couple months late, but close enough. Are you gonna, y’know, get some more furniture in here?”

“I don’t know. I guess I should, now.” Aubrey slowly, methodically twirls a bundle of noodles around her fork. “I just didn’t think it mattered yet, because I wouldn’t be, like--having guests, or anything.”

You pause, for a moment, and watch her while you process how sad that actually sounds.

“Well, if you ever need anyone to do any heavy lifting, you know who to call,” you reply, once you’ve recovered, flashing her a grin. “If you ever need… anything, actually, you should let me know. I’m not a miracle-worker, but I’ll always see what I can do.”

She glances back up at you again, covering her mouth with the back of her hand in an attempt not to lose the mouthful of noodles she’s working through.

"You don't have to do that for me."

"No. But I want to." You look at her, pointedly, from across the table. "You don't have to do everything in life alone. You're allowed to ask for help."

Aubrey just nods and pushes her food around in her bowl again. Your first instinct is to push the matter, but your second is to drop it. She heard you the first time. She knows what you said. She'll process it at her own pace.

"Are you still gonna come and see me?" she asks, after a minute, glancing up at you.

"What? Of course. " If you were within arm's reach you'd be tempted to ruffle her hair. "Just, y'know, drop me a line, or I'll see when I'm free after work, or if I have a day off. We can… I don't know. We can do whatever you want." You can see a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah. Okay."

You chat idly over the rest of dinner, and as you do the dishes together. It really drives home how domestic the pair of you have gotten, and so rapidly. You almost don’t want to leave, even as you’re standing in the doorway for her to see you out.

“Look after yourself, okay?” You move to hug her, and only barely resist the urge to pick her right up off the ground. “You know how to reach me, if you need anything.”

“Yeah.” The way she looks up at you as you separate--she’s a changed woman from the ragged, exhausted bundle of nerves you took home from the hospital just weeks ago. “And you’ll come and see me soon, right?

“I will, if I can. I’ll try my best. I promise. And if I can’t, I’ll see you when you have your physical.”

“Yeah. Okay.” She nods, looks down, looks up again. “Thank you. For… everything. Letting me stay with you, and taking me to all these appointments, and--the cleaning, and--”

“Hey, hey. C’mon.” She’s tearing up as you reach out to rub her shoulder. “It’s okay. I just… wanted to help. I’m glad I could.” Aubrey just wraps her arms around your waist and shoves herself up against your side. You have to hug her back. You can’t not.

You might be getting a little teary yourself.

You separate for good, this time, as she finally peels herself off of you and steps back over the threshold, into the apartment.

“Sorry. I just--”

“It’s okay. Go on, go enjoy being back in your own place. I’ll see you soon, alright?"

“Okay. Yeah. See you soon.”

“Bye, Aubrey. Have a good night.”

“Bye.”

You hear the door squeak on its hinges and then click shut as you turn away. You make your way back down through the building (via the stairs; you do not trust that elevator), and cross the parking lot back to your car.

It’s been a crazy month. You never expected that such an innocuous offer would have landed you here.

But, ultimately?

You’re glad it did.

She’s a good kid.

She’ll be alright.

#lost in transit #eggshells #side story #complete #aubrey #kaveh

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pollylynn · 5 years ago

Photo

Title: On the Dotted Line WC: 2000

He offers her vast sums of money to help him sign copies of Wild Storm. He repeatedly offers, and she can’t help doing the math on how many books he could have signed in the time it takes him to make each elaborate, indecent proposal.

“We are talking obscene amounts of money, Beckett.” He follows her around the loft, hands clasped before him in supplication. “Truly obscene.”

“What do I want money for?” she asks as she swats at him and dances away. “Haven’t you heard? I’ve got a white whale on the line?”

“You haven’t quite landed him yet,” he grumbles, but his eyes sparkle with anticipation. “What if he dies of . . . of toxic Sharpie inhalation or something before you can say ‘I do’?”

“My heart . . . and my well-rested hands will go on.” Her words are steely enough, but she produces a silver spray paint pen from somewhere up her sleeve and offers it to him.

“Oh, so you think I can be bought with prestidigitation and gimmicky pens?” He gives her a haughty, wounded look, but he’s too much of a kid not to love the new toy. He races back to the desk and reapplies himself to the last of his pre-wedding tasks. The tactic gets him through five, ten, fifteen more books before he’s after her for help again.

She doesn’t help. She will not help. She tells him even his groupies deserve the Real McCoy, and she shames him when he brags about Tom Sawyering Alexis into mastering the swoop of the R, the sharp, arcing C and the comparative scribble of the other letters when both expediency and style matter.

“I’ll have you know, her efforts did not go unrewarded,” he informs her with a wounded sniff. “She got some choice swag back in the good old days.”

“Choice swag for child labor. Is that how you sleep at night?” She tosses a glitter gel pen at him, mostly to see if the trick will work twice, but a little bit as a diversion, too. It doesn’t work on either front.

“You’re going somewhere?” He practically bats the pen out of midair and on to the desk. He sets down the book in his hand—half signed, no doubt— and trots after her. “Where are you going? Take me with you, please.”

“I’m going to my dad’s.” She moves to lift her hair free of her jacket collar, but he beats her. He shakes it out and sets her lapels to rights. He gives her his most devastating puppy dog eyes, but she stands firm. “You’re not invited.”

“He’s going to talk you out of it.” His hold on the front of her coat tightens. “You want him to talk you out of it. You’ve come to your senses. That’s why you’re willing to let me die—literally die—of paper cuts.”

“You know I wasn’t gonna let my dad talk me out of it.” She uncurls his fingers one by one. “But all this drama about signing a few books? I might hear him out?” “A few?” He stands, aghast, as she makes her break for the door. “Five hundred is not ‘a few’ I seem to recall someone freaking out about five hundred of something not so long ago.”

“Oh, hey! There’s an idea.” She takes a theatrical pause halfway out the door. She tosses a wicked over her shoulder. “Signed copies for every wedding guest!”

“You’re mean!” His voice carries through the door. It carries most of the way to the elevator. “You are a mean woman, Kate Beckett.”

*************************************

“Katie, hi!” Her dad’s smile is bright enough when he opens the door. The hug he wraps her up in is warm enough, but he seems almost surprised to see her.

“Hi, Dad!” She returns the hug. She pulls back and stands on his doorstep, more than a little confused when he makes no move to invite her in. “We did say three, right? Three today?”

She fumbles her phone out of her pocket as if to check her calendar. She panics a little, worried that with so much going on, she’s managed to jumble dates and times, whens and wheres, But her gesture breaks whatever spell he has been momentarily—and uncharacteristically—under.

“Three. Yes, of course, sweetheart.” He steps back and gestures her inside. He takes his time closing the door behind her, as though he’s reluctant to leave the foyer. “I’ve got . . . well I’m sure I’ve got what you need pulled out and dusted off.”

His voice is a little too hearty as he leads her down the hall and into the dining room. His place is as tidy and spare as ever, save for the banker’s box that takes up a substantial chunk of the table.

She can see the files inside, set neatly on their spines with the labeled manila tabs staggered and easily thumbed through. She can see from the way two or three sit not quite flush with the others that he has been thumbing through them in search of the certified copy of her birth certificate that she’s come to get.

“It’s here. Vital documents. This is where right where it’ll be,” he says sounding . . . flustered. If he were anyone but her dad—her matter-of-fact, brass tacks, tell-it-like-it-is dad—she’d say he sounds embarrassed. “I just got a little sidetracked.”

His chin drops. She follows his gaze to a folder half hidden behind the lid propped against the side of the box. It lies open, and she sees now that it’s sitting exactly in front of a chair pushed back from the table, out of sync with the others, perfectly aligned.

Her fingers trail along the polished, beveled edge of the table as she steps around to the place he’s only just risen from. She knows what she’ll see before she plants a palm and leans over the folder. It’s a long moment, though, before she can calm herself enough to settle her gaze. She knows what it is that’s sidetracked her dad, what has him looking closer to sentimental than she’s seen him in years.

“Affidavit, License, and Certificate of Marriage,” she reads aloud softly.

Her eyes scan down the page slowly. She takes her time with it, savoring the familiar slant of her mother’s neatly printed capitals. She grins at the playful swoop of her Ts and the precise, intent action that comes alive in every stroke. She lingers over the address, the date, the dry details. She lets the anticipation build a moment longer, then feels the smile spreading through her whole body as her gaze falls at last on the playful, absolutely distinct elegance of her mother’s signature.

“I know you’re busy.” Her dad steps close beside her. His arm comes around her shoulder and he laughs, shamefacedly, as he gives in to the temptation to reach out and rest his fingertips on the generous loop of the J. “I meant to have that birth certificate all ready for you to go. And then there she was.”

“Here she is,” she corrects him as her fingers join his on the page. “Hi, Mom.”

*********************

He is not signing books when she makes it back to the loft. He has an army of Sharpies arrayed before him, varying in color, in tip size and style, in click-y versus non-click-y status. He has the spray paint pen and the the glitter gel pen. He may actually have all the pens in the loft arrayed before him, but he is not signing books.

“How many did you get done?” She lets her arms fall over his shoulders. Her palms rest flat on the desk, trapping him in the swivel chair. She reaches for the nearest book to check. She’s quick, but he’s quicker—this time, at least—and he very nearly catches her finger as he slams the cover. “None? Really?”

“Not none,” he insists, but the guilty look on his face strongly suggests that the number is a few doors down from none. “All of these are garbage.” He gestures defensively to his pen army. “They smell bad and they squeak and they make my hand hurt and have I mentioned the paper cuts?”

“Paper cuts. Death.” She laughs against the crook of his neck. “The issue has been raised.”

“i’ll do them tomorrow,” he says with an air of finality. He pushes off with his feet, and in a move that certainly should not work, he breaks her hold, spins the chair, and scoops her into his lap. “Plenty of time tomorrow,” he mutters, working on her blouse buttons in such a determined way that he nearly has her on board.

“Tomorrow,” she murmurs, and the word has walked right up to the door of his diabolical plan to distract her. It’s walked right up, but it hasn’t quite slipped in yet. She manages to grab his wrists. “No! Tomorrow we have City Hall. We have the license tomorrow.”

“License,” he scoffs as he shakes off her hold. “That’ll take, like, half an hour.”

“What if I could . . . inspire you to get these signed?” She’s pouring it on thick, giving him her most seductive tone.

“Inspiration. Yeah, that was . . . “ He pauses dramatically as he pops the button that reveals a glimpse of her bra. “. . . the plan.”

“Good!” She’s on her feet and racing for the bedroom closet. She retrieves the small, wedge-shaped box that’s fancier than her fanciest evening bag. She’s back in the office, holding it out to him before he’s had time to so much as sputter a protest. “Voila. Inspiration. Open it.”

She’s unsure for half a second. It’s her wedding present to him—the man who has everything—and for half a second it feels like cheating to give it to him now instead of after they’ve crossed all their Ts with playful swoops and dotted their is with precision. But she sees her mother’s signature in her mind’s eye. She sees her father’s next to it, and it doesn’t feel like cheating.

He hesitates, not knowing what this gesture means, but sensing its import to her. He takes the box in one hand and tugs her close with the other. The fancy box doesn’t so much open as it unfurls, revealing its treasure nestled in actual snow white satin.

“Is this—” he gasps as his fingers scramble to take it up. “A Pineider Mystery Filler!”

She should probably be offended that her half-open blouse is all but forgotten as he rifles through his secret stash of ink bottles to find one worthy of the inaugural fill of the fancy, clear-barreled fountain pen with its watch-work mechanism. She should scold him for the dramatic sweep of his arms that sends the rest of the unworthy pen army to ground.

Instead, she perches on his knee. She listens to him rattle off the pen’s vital statistics, including the A-listers who use it and those in the mystery writer brotherhood who’d kill to have one. She oohs and ahs along with him as the magnet in the cap causes it to snap satisfyingly to.

She helps, finally. With one of his arms wrapped firmly around her waist, he needs her to, so she sets each book in exactly the right place and braces it for him while he swoops through R and scrawls his way toward the emphatic arc of the C. She helps him work his way through five, ten, fifty books, and the sight of his signature loses none of its charm.

But she plucks the pen out of his hand when they make it fo fifty books. She caps it with a satisfying magnet snick. She reminds him of her half-open blouse. And after they’re both spent, after he’s fallen asleep, she lies awake, fingers pressed to the butterflies in her stomach, and she pictures his signature, right next to hers. A/N: Signatures. This was rough to get into. And it got hella long. Hmm.

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 6 #Castle: For Better or Worse #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Jim Beckett #Johanna Beckett #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Hmm

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ramblinganthropologist · 5 years ago

Text

What’s in a name

Summary: So, when is it the right time to call your boyfriend by his first name? Garrus finds out the hard way when that moment is. At least it helps.

---

Google Search: When should you call your b-

“No...”

Google Search: When is the right time to use-

“No...”

Google Search: When is it appropriate to use your commanding officer's first name?

Garrus groaned and resisted the urge to smack his faceplates to the desk in front of him. He should have been doing anything other than making the search engine think he was being insubordinate. After all, there were Reapers all over the place and he...

He glanced over to the other tab. An email had been sitting there for the last ten minutes. It was from Shepard, checking up on him after some... activities. The tone was polite, casual, but something about it sent shivers up the turian's spine as he read through it again.

Garrus,

Just checking in – you're not having any allergic reactions, are you? I read there a rare possibility in human-turian interactions.

…

Sorry, that was a little clinical. I guess I didn't know how to say that. Hope you're doing ok down in the battery. They've been keeping me busy all over the place, so I'll try to stop by later to chat. Thanks for the... well, thanks.

Someone's calling for me, talk to you later.

Alistair

“He used his name in the email... that should make it ok, right?” His mandibles twitched in confusion as Garrus pushed away from the table. This was clearly outside his range of expertise. Big guns, sniping things, and apparently having sex with Spectres – those were the things he was good at. Interpersonal relationships, not so much.

Culture told him to never use the man's name. After all, Shepard was his commanding officer. Then again, culture also told him not to stick his anatomy in a commanding officer either. The two were kind of in conflict with each other to say the least. It wasn't a great feeling as he left the battery on the pretense of going to give Tali a report she had asked for earlier. At least on the way he could think.

The Normandy was buzzing with activity. Right then, they were in deep space. It was the safest place for them to be as they planned their next move. It was going to get messy on Rannoch, to say the least. Of course with all the geth it was probably already a nightmare, so what would a few more craters do to the resale value?

As Garrus hopped in the waiting elevator, he ignored the sight of the memorial plaque. There was a new names there, people he knew. Mordin's name shouldn't have been there probably – he wasn't Alliance after all – but Shepard had stuck it up there himself. It was hard to argue with the man when he had that look in his eyes.

He had that look a lot. Haunted, maybe. The thought of it made the turian frown as he waited for the doors to open again. He was probably being a bad... whatever he was... by not helping more with that. But how could he help?

“Maybe I should google that instead...”

The doors slid open to show him that engineering was just as busy as the rest of the Normandy. Tali had her back to him, bent over the console and typing away. She didn't even notice as he stepped up to place the file at her side. It was only when their sleeves brushed that she jumped up.

“Garrus! I didn't see you there.” She was tense – it was a miracle her suit didn't rip from it. Guess admirals were made of some stretchy stuff. Honestly, he had to hand it to her. She was handling it well on short notice.

He nodded, stepping back. “Sorry, didn't want to interrupt you. Brought you the files you needed.”

“Thank you...” she was giving him that look. “You could have just emailed them.”

He looke back towards the door, mandibles twitching. “I needed the walk.”

Off to the side, two techs snickered. Rumors had clearly started to go around concerning himself and the ship's commanding officer. He didn't even want to know what they were hearing, so he shot them a blank look. The flinch was worth it as they turned back to their consoles as if the whole thing had never happened.

Petty, maybe. Worth it, absolutely.

“If you're looking for Shepard, he was here not too long ago. If he's not in his quarters, check around. He's probably following up on a problem we saw before deck. I would have done it myself when I finished, but he said he was free.” Tali was already back to her work, typing away at her console. She left him, mandibles twitching, standing there like the biggest idiot in engineering.

Well, he probably was the biggest idiot in engineering.

Garrus shook his head as he left the battery, eyeing the elevator. Shepard, like everyone in engineering, was damn good at his job. No doubt he would've had the work done long before the turian ever got down there. It was foolish to go looking when he had more important things to do...

…

That of course explained why he turned his talons to the steps that would lead him under the engineering floor. Because it was perfectly logical to go look for the genius tech he was currently having sex with where he probably wasn't. But hey, who had ever said attraction between species was a logical thing?

Underneath, it was dark. Once, Jack had stayed there six months prior. She was gone now, off helping biotic kids in a move he hadn't seen coming but applauded none the less. There was only boxes there now, left by the crew charged with retrofitting the Normandy for Alliance requirements. Maybe if they survived, they could turn the space into something else.

And if they died, that was technically space confetti. Maybe it would hit a Reaper on the way to the next solar system.

“Shepard, are you down here?”

His voice echoed across the space where it wasn't stopped by boxes. It wasn't loud enough, however, to cover up the sound. Garrus wasn't sure what it was as he crept closer. To him, it sounded like breathing, but it was way too fast and shallow.

Turns out, Shepard was down there after all.

The commanding officer was hidden behind some boxes, doubled over and hugging his knees and shaking. A datapad was beside him, broadcasting details of another attack on a nearby solar system. Even from where he was standing, the death toll was high and getting higher.

“Shepard, is it your sugar?”

Shepard didn't answer, and his omni-tool's built in CGM wasn't blaring a warning for the man attached to it to eat something. He just kept shaking and clutching his knees tighter, tears streaming down his pale face.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Garrus remembered seeing a poster in the medbay about how to spot a panic attack in humans. If he was right, the man in front of him was showing a good number of the signs.

So he knelt down, though he still gave him space. Shepard didn't react, but he got the feeling the Spectre was aware he was there. His leg shifted to allow him a little more room, though that might have been a reflex. He was shaking pretty badly.

Shit... what to do... what to say even? A thousand things rushed through Garrus' mind, and then it went blank. But one remained as the reboot finished, and he nodded as he looked around the small space. Maybe...

“Alistair, is there medicine you take for this?”

There was a nod, barely, to match the bottle that had rolled away probably at the start of the attack. It still had pills in it, but far too few for the time of the month. Garrus felt his stomach drop as he reached across to grab it. Luckily, the lid wasn't one of those that needed human fingers to open. It was child proof, not turian proof.

Luckily, the label only mentioned one. He shook it out and nudged the man's knee. Alistair's shaking hand accepted the pill, and then swallowed it. Where he got the water, Garrus had no idea. It didn't really matter then.

“Alright so... I'm not sure how humans breathe.” That was on the poster. “So I'm going to count slowly and you try to match me. Sound good?”

It was the longest ten count Garrus had ever been through – the numbers stretched to eternity. But he kept it slow, watching the human in front of him. His breathing was struggling to match, but he was winning.

Just like a Spectre.

“Alright... ten.” His breathing was slower. “You just keep breathing, Alistair. I'm right here if you need me.”

Something about the name helped him focus, so Garrus wasn't going to shoot himself in the foot there. Instead he just sat there, listening to breathing that was starting to slow down. The man still looked way too tense, but he was breathing. That was important.

A few more minutes – maybe 10, but who was counting - passed before Alistair let go of his knees and wiped the tears from his face. He nodded slowly to the turian but made no mood to stand. Instead, he held out a hand in the direction of the pill bottle. This Garrus was more than happy to hand over.

“Need another?”

“Can't. Don't want to lose it, though.” He was speaking now, good. The pill bottle disappeared into his jacket pocket, where all things went in the end. Those pockets must contain a gravity well for how much he kept in there. It was kind of impressive.

Ok, Garrus was just trying to focus on anything with that one... it was kind of awkward.

“Uh... how are you-”

Alistair didn't let him finish. “Not great.”

He looked down at his knees. “Guess the report got to me. Been kind of on edge.”

“I think anyone would freak out with numbers like that. It's rough out there.” Garrus looked around to see where Tali's repair might be. “I can fix that if you can't get up right now.”

A nod sent the turian to his feet, omni-tool scanning what needed to be fixed. One eye stayed on the human, though. His breathing was still a little fast, but it was acceptable in Garrus' mind. Maybe one of these days he'd look up what was normal.

Figuring out another species' vital signs...that didn't mean anything, right?

“Thanks.”

Garrus nodded as his talons worked. “It's kind of in a hard place to reach for a human. Your wrists-”

“No... for you know. Talking me down.” Alistair was standing now as he gathered his things. “I guess I needed to hear my own name for once.”

Well... that settled it then. Garrus nodded to himself as he continued to work. If the Spectre needed to hear his name sometime, he would provide it as much as needed. Damn the rules on that. They were made to be broken anyway.

Just like this damn wire... really, what the hell had the retrofit team been doing down there?

#ramblinganthopologist's writing #Alistair Shepard #hopefully i did ok on the panic attack #I haven't had one like Al's before

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sweetdejun · 5 years ago

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coterie: the mini rubik’s cube (2/2)

gang!x1 x fem!reader

synopsis: you’re an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life. but what happens when you catch the gang that is famous for keeping their deeds under the table, in action?

coterie’s masterlist can be found here

pairing: kim wooseok and y/n

a/n: brief mentions of bullying, cursing, and an overall emotional rollercoaster. it’s good to be back :))

so within the next few weeks, wooseok got a new desktop mailed in along with a second swivel chair. you distinctly remember wooseok calling you over to the room, and when you stood at the doorway, he sent a broad smile your way before pushing a cardboard box over to you. “what’s this?” “oh, it’s your swivel chair that you’re going to put together.” you scoffed, “what, you’re just gonna watch me?” “not really,” he motioned his head towards the desktop. “I'm gonna set this up for you, so have fun doing that!” he handed you the toolbox and gave you one last thumbs-up before turning around to your computer. huffing, a strand of hair flew in front of your face as you sat cross-legged in front of the box and eventually assembled your new chair. the only sounds that were heard in the room were wooseok’s fast typing and your small sighs as you’d exhale after putting together one piece at a time. so naturally, to get rid of the silent and awkward air surrounding the two of you, you started the conversation. “so, I was wondering, how did you get all that information on me? like where I went to school, and what my schedule and stuff were like?” wooseok’s typing speed didn’t seize but he continued, “I’m a hacker, that’s what I do.” you snorted at his comment, and this caused him to turn his head around fully to face you. “what’s so funny?” “you sound like the guy from agent cody banks, bro,” you guffawed and shook your head. wooseok just blinked back at you. “who?” this caused you to put down the wheel and screwdriver. you looked up at him, your jaw dropped. “what? you’ve never seen that movie before? alright, wooseok, the first assignment from me to you: we have to have you watch agent cody banks. it’s a classic movie.” you started telling wooseok all about your love for movies, and how you grew up watching some of the films your parents found to be iconic and then movies that were iconic in your generation. you seemed to be so lost in your own little world, that you didn’t notice wooseok was now finished setting up what he needed to and was not diligently listening to you, watching the small twinge in your eyes only grow brighter as you progressed further. “oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you or anything. movies just get me so riled up,” “no, I didn’t mind it or anything.” you were caught off guard by the tone in his voice. “you know, you’re different now than what you were two weeks ago. I was scared to even talk to you,” you mumbled the last part to yourself, hoping he wouldn’t hear but alas, a bitter smile made its way onto wooseok’s face, “yeah, well I haven’t had the best experiences with people, in general.” you did get him to watch cody banks later that night though, which he enjoyed (you thought you saw him smile).

that was one of the few non-work-related conversations you’d had with him. well, if you count work as wooseok walking you through the programs, and file systems, then yeah. but you hadn’t gotten your first real assignment until a few days later. it was three in the morning and you were sleeping soundly when you heard rapping against your door. you groggily opened your eyes, sight still blurry from sleep and you staggered out of bed, the corner of the bed bumping you just above the knee. “ah, fuck,” you mutter, rubbing the inflicted area as you continue to the door. you open the door, and squint, making out wooseok standing there, chest heaving. “what in the world?” wooseok enters your room, pushing you to the side. “may I ask what you’re doing in here, at 3 AM?” “I’ve got your first assignment, and we need this done as soon as possible.” it took you some time to comprehend his words. “wait,” you start, “you want us to start on this now?” wooseok nodded as if it was obvious. if your eyes didn’t shoot open before, they were now. “so hurry up, come out and into the computer room, I’ll give you the details there.” “can I at least bring a coffee with me?” for a second, wooseok squinted, then grunted, “fine,” before walking out of your room, leaving the door ajar. “uh, thanks for closing the door,” you grumbled, before changing out of your pajamas and fixing your appearance a bit. you went into the kitchen and began making your coffee (you only got around halfway through, though, because soonja came into the kitchen, helping you make your coffee. you thanked her and insisted she go back to sleep, but she refused until the coffee mug was in your hands.) slowly, you walked to the room with steady steps, and knocked with your other hand. seconds later, the door gently swung open and you made your way to your chair, silently praying that it wouldn’t fall apart then and there (it didn’t). after taking a swig of your coffee, you set it down and pivot your seat to face wooseok, and before you can ask him anything, he starts, “seungwoo needs some details on the military leaders, because he’s about to send dongpyo to one of their bases and we need all the information we can possibly get.” then he jotted down a list of things he needed you to get. you scanned the note and it seemed like you only needed to find who this guy was affiliated with, in terms of his friend circles. not bad, you think, before getting to work. so from three to almost five-thirty, you’re hopeless, and although wooseok offered to help, a part of you wanted to do this by yourself. so you refused, to which wooseok nodded, then said, “I’ll be heading to bed, let me know when you’re done.” you mumbled a ‘yep’, then kept going. it’s not like you didn’t know what you were doing, you thought, it’s just slightly more difficult than you perceived it to be. luckily, wooseok left you something similar to a cheat sheet, and you quickly were able to get the information.

at this point, you were about seventy-five percent done, and just finished research on the military leader’s favorite bar’s owner, when something striked you as interesting. the bar owner was from the same high school as jinhyuk. lee jinhyuk; the guy who got you into this whole thing. after jotting that information down, you couldn’t help but let your curiosity get the best of you, as you clicked on the high school name. loads of records popped up on your screen, from student yearbooks to records on all the staff from the past 10 years and the student incidents and records. you set out to look for jinhyuk’s stuff, again, out of sheer curiosity. only then were you surprised with what you saw on the screen. a picture of jinhyuk, tall and lanky as he still was with his arm hooked around wooseok. he still looks the same, albeit his features have definitely sharpened since and dare you say, he looks much more attractive now. you don’t know if it was from the lack of sleep or the caffeine, but you pieced some things together: jinhyuk did mention to you that he was close with one of the x1 members, and you did ask wooseok how he got the information on you, it’s clear that jinhyuk and wooseok are still quite close and they probably share everything with each other. your curiosity sunk into you further, and then you went back to the database before searching up wooseok’s name under the high school. the first thing you saw made your heart stop; it was an article labeled, “student runs away from school after severe bullying”, and reading it, you learned that around five or six years ago, wooseok had transferred midway through his senior year to this high school, for “personal reasons”, and people had called him a freak and had bullied him, pulling all sorts of stunts on him. one day he just ran away from school. as you read the finishing sentence of the article, your eyes started to sting and you couldn’t look at it anymore. you quickly closed the tab, gathered all your information and sent it right away to wooseok, shaky hands hovering over the keyboard. you press enter, clear your throat and whisper ‘going to bed’ because you can’t trust your voice right now, and you hurry on back to your room, where after some difficulty, you’re able to find your languor once more and fall back into a deep slumber.

when wooseok and you began opening up towards one another, he showed you a different side of himself. he was no longer the asshole you made him out to be when you first met him; rather, he made a complete 360 of his original impression. but now, you understand why that may have been hard for him. your mind wanders off into these thoughts and you don’t notice that wooseok has been calling you for some time. it’s only when he barges into your room, finding you on your bed, eyeing the blank phone screen in front of you. “y/n,” you flinch, and look up to meet wooseok’s concerned gaze. “what’s going on? I’ve been calling you for a while,” you clear your throat and snap your eyes away from his, before saying, “sorry, I was thinking about something, did you need something?” wooseok’s eyebrows furrowed at your sudden movements. why did it seem like you were avoiding him? had he done something wrong? maybe he upset you? these questions began to hiss at his anxious state, that he was holding together in front of you. “uh, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any problems last night, looking for the information,” he starts, but you stop him, reassuring him with a smile too wide and a nod too positive, but it’s convincing enough as he nods quietly, before muttering that he’s gonna go, then gently closes your door as he leaves the room. you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding and push your hair back with your hands. it’s hard to avoid wooseok ever since you learned of his past; you see him every day, now, because you kinda have to. not that you don’t want to see him because of course, that’s not the case. in fact, you’d say you were growing quite fond of the man for some time now. which is why avoiding him has grown to be such a difficult task for you. but seeing him will only remind you of what he’s been through. you felt guilty for learning all this information without his being aware of it, and it felt like you violated his privacy. and you did, and so whenever you saw him, that guilt went off in your head like an alarm, a reminder.

you were paying the price for your curiosity, so much so that one night, you couldn’t sleep. it was like the guilt was eating you away, so much so that it was now in the way if your everyday life. you kept your conversations with wooseok minimal and silently did as you were told because you were afraid that it would be a matter of sentences before you burst. you grunted, burying your face in your hands as you paced back and forth in your room before you decided to put on your robe and slippers, then headed out to the backyard. the sounds of the cicadas and the stars shining in the sky managed to calm your jittery state, and your breathing relaxed a bit until you heard, “y/n? what are you doing out here?” you turn and lo and behold, by the back door leaned a relaxed wooseok, hands stuffed in his pockets. “couldn’t sleep. I had to clear my head,” you tell him, turning your head back to the sky. his footsteps are approaching closer and the sound of your heartbeat starts to reach your ears. then, his hand rests on your shoulder and you turn slowly to face him. “what’s going on? you’ve been distant for some time, you never talk to me anymore... did I say something?” you shake your head instantly, reassuring him that he didn’t do anything wrong, but then his voice grows louder, “well, why have you not been talking to me then? you’re avoiding me and I don’t even know why!” shocked by the sudden outburst, you don’t realize that tears are welling up in your eyes and wooseok’s widen. “I-I’m sorry, oh no, no, please don’t cry,” and wooseok, panicked, begins walking backward. enough is enough you think, and you wipe your eyes violently and whisper, “wooseok, sit, I’ll tell you everything.” and so you do. as you tell him the story, you notice the changes on wooseok’s face, this being one of the only times he’s expressed emotions as vividly as he ever did with you. “I didn’t want to say anything because I felt guilty. I felt like I did something I shouldn’t have, and I’m really sorry,” but he cuts you off, emotion thick in his voice, “no, I’m sorry. I get it, you were only curious. I transferred midway through the year because my family was breaking apart. my dad used to gamble, and he gambled away our home. my mom was fed up, so she took me and my younger brother and we ran away from him. I don’t talk about this a lot; in fact, I only told seungwoo about it, but, the reason I left was... was because it was suffocating living like that. wake up in the morning and go to school, only for people to push you around, take your stuff, and then the whole cycle repeats itself. I wasn’t alone, though, because I had jinhyuk. I spoke to him before I left and I told him I would leave, of course; he’s more than a friend, he’s like a brother to me. that’s why he and I are still as close as we were. but anyway, that’s why I have problems when there are circumstances in which my personal space gets violated. I don’t like it when people touch my things, I don’t like it when things aren’t a certain way and seungwoo knew this before he offered me this position.

“I get it, you were only curious, that’s why you made the decisions that you did. thank you for telling me, I thought I had done something to make you upset, and so I felt .” wooseok finished, looking up to see you silently crying. his hands reach up and wipe your tears, and you choke back a sob. “why are you crying?” “because you didn’t deserve any of that, you have such a good heart, wooseok. you are such a good person and it’s upsetting to know what you went through.” then you wrapped your arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. at first, wooseok doesn’t know what to do, body freezing at your sudden action, but then he slowly melts into your embrace and reciprocates it. after you calm down a bit, you push away from his embrace, bashfully gazing to the ground. “I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” and wooseok smiles at your cute form. “y/n,” you look up at him through your lashes and see the grin on his mouth and wow, you didn’t think he could get more attractive. “I like you.” and although a pink hue settles on his ears, he continues, “at first I was upset you picked me. I thought I would teach you stuff, and you would just mess things up all the time, and I would have to correct your mistakes, but you proved me wrong. you’re one smart and kind young woman and I’ve had the honor and privilege to work with you. but with time, your quirks and habits grew on me, and well, so did you. so tell me, will you go out with me?” your heartbeat picks up its pace again and leaning in, you plant a small peck on his lips, and before you can pull away, wooseok’s arms wrap around your frame, pulling you in and deepening the kiss. then wooseok pulls back, cupping your face in his palm to lock his eyes with your own. “yes, kim wooseok, I’d like that very much.” and it is safe to say that since that night, you’ve experienced nothing but beautiful, radiant days, and peaceful, serene nights.

a/n: ahhh that’s over! thanks for waiting, I hope you guys liked it! this was written after my midterms so some parts of the storyline may seem a bit wonky, just fyi, but that’s all for wooseok. now, who do we want to see next? did you think it was going to be wooseok? if not, who did you associate with the mini rubik’s cube? comment down below <3

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disabled-queen-hc-blog · 5 years ago

Note

Lisp! Brian, stutter! Roger, and/or autistic! John having to deal with people not thinking they're smart

What a trio!

♚

“Tho, I wath thinking we could maybe thart out wit-” Brian began, his eyes down on the paper in front of him, a list of propositions and ideas for the management company considering taking on Queen.

The man conducting the meeting blinked, his eyebrows going up. He held out a hand for Brian to stop talking. “Whoa, there. Mind if I read what you’ve got?” he asked, much preferring to read it than hear Brian lisp his way through the list.

Brian didn’t see anything wrong with that and handed him the paper. “That’h fine.”

He also didn’t notice the smile shaking on the man’s lips as he tried to suppress a giggle.

He scanned the list before looking over to Roger, assuming he’d be better to talk to than Brian. “I see the percentages you guys want. We’ll have to negotiate that with head of finances.”

Roger’s face got serious, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. “N...No. Our last manager p...p...paid us scraps. The lowest w...w...we’ll go is that. We won’t negotiate any lower,” he said firmly, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair.

A bead of sweat trickled down the man’s face as he pushed down any urge to laugh. Two idiots in one band? Goddamn. He cleared his throat, nodding. “That’s alright then. We’ll still need to talk to the finance department. But, um, I’m seeing stuff about insurance. Now that we’re going to have to haggle around with. You guys will be on a probation period before we officially sign you to this label. Insurance won’t be provided during that time,” he said, his eyes now on John, knowing (wrongly) that lightening couldn’t strike the same place thrice.

“That illegal. If Queen work for you, company need provide insurance to Queen. Probation not a legal status with insurance. Insurance need to be given when Queen start,”John said sternly, refusing to be swindled by another label again.

The guy almost had the wind knocked out of him. Three retards in one band? This couldn’t be happening. How in the bloody hell did they get so popular? It must be the last one keeping the bedlam patients in check.

He looked to Freddie, almost pleadingly, the paper in his hand gripped onto tightly. Freddie made eye contact with him and burst out laughing. “Oh, don’t look at me, love! I’m the dumbest one here!” Besides you. He spoke in his clear and posh accent but his words made the man’s shoulders sag. This couldn’t be real.

“That thoundth pretty illegal to me,” Brian chimed in, his hands clasped together on the table, suddenly much more confident in himself.

“That’s b...because it is!” Roger growled.

“John think this label is scam,” John said, his head tilted so he could look at the other two.

Freddie was looking at his jacket. It had sequins. So shiny!

The three of them leaned in close to one another, murmuring quietly before all of them nodded at each other.

“We’ve h...h...heard enough.”

“Yeah. We go now.”

“Thankth for thith.”

They all gathered their things and headed out the door, without another word to the man who was floored. John, Brian and Roger talked about legality and clauses while Freddie wondered if his hair looked good.

He had no idea what had just happened, but he knew for sure that Queen wouldn’t make it far with a freak show like that as their lineup.

Wrong again!

#r slur #ableist slurs #air head!freddie #john #roger #brian #autistic!john #lisp!brian #stutter!roger #Anonymous

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royallyanxious · 5 years ago

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Fake best friend me, maybe?

paring: platonic roceit

tw: sympathetic deceit, very brief mentions of past abuse, crack fic

additional note: Deceit’s name’s Deegan because “Dee” was too short.

wc: 3.8k

Summary: Deceit needs someone to pretend to be his best friend. His only option is his so-called mortal enemy.

AO3 link

Door loudly closed behind his back. Dee cringed. The hallway smelt like dirty socks and sweat. He hated college but he hated his asshole ex-friends that were waiting for him outside even more. And above all of that he hated the fact that he had to humble himself in front of someone. Worst day in Deegan’s life.

His golden eyes scanned the nearly empty hallway as he scratched the scar that ran across his cheekbone. Most of people looked away when his eyes met their eyes. Dee was not widely liked in here. Not anywhere to be exact. He didn’t bother to change that either.

Only one person seemed to be completely unaffected by Dee’s sudden appearance. The gold sparks in his eyes lightened up. That was the man he was looking for.

Dee took one step forward and then another. Roman was standing just few meters away, clicking something furiously on his phone. His friends flew away as soon as they saw that Dee was approaching them so surely Roman had to be aware of his soon-to-be company. And yet he didn’t even bother to look up at Dee.

The audacity of this bitch.

Dee cleared his throat loudly. If it was possible hallway suddenly became even more empty.

“Roman, buddy, I have a favour.” He declared standing right in front of Roman.

The other glanced up from his phone, eyeing Dee suspiciously. Rightfully so. He was unimpressed. He usually was.

“Buddy?” Roman sneered, putting his phone into the pocket, “We’re not buddies. In fact we technically hate each other.”

“Oh come on, don’t be dramatic.” Dee clicked his tongue in response. He had to remain calm if it was to work out but then… bickering with Roman was always so much fun. The worst thing was that Dee knew that Roman felt the same way. Convincing him to do anything could take ages.

“Dramatic? You spat into my lunch yesterday!” roared Roman, “You spat and grinned right into my face. Thank you very much, buddy-my-ass!”

Fair point.

“I was smiling in general direction, you just happened to be right in front of me!” said Dee innocently.

Roman groaned and raked his hand through his copper hair. Dee could already see the mischievous smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. That was the moment he was waiting for.

The thing with Roman and Deegan was that officially they hated each other but in reality they couldn’t live without separately. They were the type of enemies that were going absolutely morbid without each other. It escalated to the point that if Roman was sick - Dee was skipping school, and if Dee had taken a part-time job - Roman made sure to torment him with nasty texts during his shift. And everyone approved that. Because it was simply their dynamics.

Roman was widely liked by the masses while Dee was a freak/loser type of guy. It was only logical for people to label them as enemies. Especially since almost each of their encounters ended up with sharp remarks and angry sneers. Yet somehow they kept coming back to each other, like two magnets. There was no escape from that.

There was however one unspoken rule between them - the rule that Dee was about to break any second soon. Never have they ever met outside of the college. If they saw each other in public, they never made a move to suggest that they know each other. It was their way of keeping balance in the nature.

Not for long.

“I need you to fake-best-friend me.” blurted Dee when Roman finally (finally!) looked at him without the confusion and mockery in his eyes.

Said eyes almost immediately grew wider. Dee was not surprised.

“Excuse me?.” Roman took a step back and put a hand over his heart. Again - not unexpected. “I must be hearing things… First of all. There’s no such thing as ‘fake best friends’. Second of all… You do realize that people usually assume that we are mortal enemies, right? It could ruin our image! Give me one good reason why should I do that.”

Dee sighed. Talking to Roman was one thing (that itself wasn’t easy) but convincing him was something completely different. He was stubborn and while Deegan usually didn’t mind that (it made his life much more interesting), now he was cursing that very trait of Roman Fucking Fairley. Damn him and his stupid stubborn ass.

“Well this is important to me.” replied Dee and mentally praised himself for very witty response. Great fucking job he should be a mediator truly.

“Is it now?” Roman huffed loudly, mocking smile back on his face as he raised his eyebrow.

“Very.” nodded Dee, trying to ignore the heat tickling his cheeks. It was humiliating but it was also his only shot. The truth was that no one was even willing to normally talk with Dee, not to mention hanging out in any possible way.

“My answer is still no then.” shrugged Roman and turned around on his heel. Dee nodded thoughtfully before the other’s words caught up on him.

“Wait what. No! Oh for god’s sake, Roman! One small favour for your favourite slimy enemy?” in a spun of a moment Deegan grabbed Roman’s hand, practically launching himself on him. “This is my dignity that we’re talking about! I can’t lose it!”

“You can’t lose something you don’t have, dipshit.” replied Roman coolly. Sparks of cold satisfaction were literally glowing in his eyes and Dee mentally groaned.

“You’re insufferable.” he said instead and let his hand slip off Roman’s wrist.

“I’m just trying to be a worthy match for you.”

“Do you really?” snickered Dee.

“Oh shut up. Gimme a sec” snapped Roman and pulled out his phone again. He started typing something furiously with the speed of the light. Before Dee got to ask what he was doing Roman switched his phone off and crossed his arms on the chest. “So… fake best friend? Sounds like a terrible fic trope. Also proves that you’re lame.”

“I disagree and... slightly disagree.” grinned Dee and started walking towards the door, explaining everything vividly “So basically what I need you to do is pretend that you’re my best friend. Because my friends from the past are waiting for me outside and I don’t want to look like a sore loser.”

“You are sore loser.” Roman said smiling lazily but followed Dee’s steps anyway, “Why me though?”

“You’re my enemy.” Dee shrugged, “No one knows me better than you do. Tell me something nobody knows.”

“Patton didn’t threw up on Logan’s couch. It was you.” replied Roman almost immediately.

“See? That’s the spirit! You can totally fake best friend me.”

“Yeah… Maybe… maybe you’re right.” nodded Roman, “You owe me a pizza afterwards though! Like you know… just you buying me pizza and leaving me alone.” he warned raising his finger up as if he wanted to threaten him.

Deegan smiled and hooked his own pinky finger over Roman’s. The atmosphere between them was heavy with challenge which - for once - wasn’t held against each other. Seconds later Roman unhooked his finger and pushed the door, letting the fresh air into the building. Dee let himself smile a little bit wider as he padded after Roman. Something warm and fuzzy made itself cozy in his chest and he had no idea what that was but - him be damned - it felt pretty good.

---

Turned out that Roman didn’t have to do much. Just him being there was more than enough apparently. Except of him and Deegan, there were three of them. Those ‘ex-friends’. Roman wasn’t the type to overthink so he didn’t ask why they weren’t friends with Dee anymore. He also didn’t ask why they decided to meet up if they weren’t friends. It wasn’t his business anyway. Also he didn’t care.

Just like it wasn’t Dee’s business that Roman had cancelled plans for entire afternoon just because Dee asked him for help.

And sure, Roman was fighting against the idea at first. The thought itself - of him and Dee hanging out (even if it was fake hanging out) was actually pretty concerning. But it also took Roman exactly 5 seconds to understand that spending one more evening with Dee was much more fun than spending time with anybody else.

Being around him was like a challenge. And oh boy, Roman did enjoy challenges a lot. Pretending to be Dee’s best friend was a great opportunity not only to work on the acting skills but also gave Roman more occasions to embarrass his self-proclaimed enemy. And that what Roman was always up for.

Everybody claimed that Dee and him were complete opposites but Roman begged to differ. They were actually painfully similar. It’s just the directions they took were different.

He enviously glanced slushie that Deegan was sipping as they strolled down the street, before his eyes wandered to nameless men that were never skilled enough to be Dee’s friends. Because you see, Roman had this strong belief that it didn’t require time or patience to be Deegan’s friend. It required skill. And actually Roman possessed this skill. He just never made a proper use out of it.

“You’re awfully quiet guy, Roman!” snickered the boy with hair that was dyed green. Roman was pretty sure that his name started with “e”. Despite the outstanding hair-colour, he was pretty grey.

Dee laughed loudly when he caught Roman’s gaze lingering on him.

“Roman’s shy baby at first but believe me you wouldn’t want to see him surrounded by his little fans!” he mocked, his lips twisted in a loop-sided grin. It made his sharp cheekbones stand out even more. “Or you know what? You would love to see that, Evan!”

Ah, so it was Evan. Bland name. Actually fits him well.

“Why?” peeped another guy, the one wearing thick glasses.

“Because everybody loves our Roman here.” grinned Dee. “If only they knew that inside he’s not as much of a saint that they think he is.”

“Hey!” Roman’s eyebrows furrowed, “Excuse me, I am a model student.”

Apparently those words held some kind of a special meaning because the rest of the boys started laughing as if they heard a good joke.

“What?” asked Roman confused, scrunching up his nose.

“You can’t be a model student if you’re friends with Dee. Being friends with Dee is like… a major disgrace for any model student.” explained Even, glancing at Dee a little bit waringly.

“Yeah,” agreed Thick Glasses, “You gotta choose! You’re either perfect or you hang out with Dee!”

The third guy, the one wearing long, orange skirt, leaned closer to Roman, before whispering loudly “I don’t think we need to tell you that nobody chooses Dee in this equation, do we?”

Dee quickly took an obnoxiously loud sip of his slushie. Their eyes met for a split of second and Roman couldn’t help but notice a shade of shame in Dee’s eyes.

Some would say that at this very moment Roman felt pity. But he knew better. The only emotion in his heart at that time was an overwhelming disgust and sense of unfairness. He instantly straightened his back and snatched the slushie from Deegan’s hand.

“It’s their loss honestly. Dee’s a great guy. Not that you know though. After all you ditched him too, didn’t you?” he smiled widely, showing off two perfectly white rows of his teeth.

Orange Skirt cautiously stepped back while Evan and Thick Glasses looked at each other slightly panicked.

“It’s not…” started Evan but just when his tongue started twisting in whatever explanation he had, Dee waved his hand off.

“Roman’s always like that. Always a prince on a white horse.” he joked heavily before looking at the other with a familiar glint of something wild in his eyes. “Why do you always make everything sound so awfully melodramatic, idiot?” he sneered.

Dee knew what he was doing. Roman could feel in under his skin. It was nothing different from the remarks that Dee sometimes threw at him in the college. He wanted to rile Roman up in the name of good fun. And he knew that Roman wouldn’t refuse. He never refused. So when the question tickled Roman’s nerves just like it usually did, he let his lips spread in a merciless smirk.

“I’m just trying to keep up with your terrible sense of fashion, babe” he replied smoothly, eyeing shimmering with glitter shirt that Dee somehow managed to put into his jeans.

Evan crackled upon hearing that but neither Roman nor Dee cared. The blood was already rushing under their skin. That was their dynamics.

“At least I don’t spend hours in the morning, trying to flawlessly stylize my hair.” hissed Dee, circling Roman, “And yet you still wonder why people treat you like a fucking trinket. Try talking to them and they will swoon. Try looking in their direction and they will faint. Wave at them and, I’m sure, they will be ecstatic.”

Roman only chuckled at this statement, “Bold statement considering that it comes from someone who daily waves aside everyone in general.”

“It’s a conscious decision.”

“You puking at Logan’s couch! That was a conscious decision.” laughed Roman and briefly looked at the others. “But you barking at people? If it’s a decision of yours, then you are really poor at making them.”

“The only poor person here is you and it’s because you’re lacking your brain” retorted Dee, eyes glimmering with excitement. “Nitwit.”

“Imbecile.”

“Moron.”

“Moron your hair.”

“I think you meant maroon and that’s hardly an insult,” smiled Deegan widely, “Therefore I win.”

“Win? A freakshow maybe, yes.” replied Roman. He wasn’t sure if the sweet taste lingering on his tongue was from the slushie or from the delicious ripost.

At this point Deegan was fuming, eyes glistening in excitement and fury, hands clenched in small fists. Roman smirked even wider. He was enjoying their game today. The outside world had already ceased to exist. It was only him and Dee’s awful attitude.

“Just because you won a battle, doesn’t mean that you won the war,” hissed Dee, baring his teeth. Left canine was pricking his lip. Roman knew this sight by heart by now.

“No, but at the revenge still tastes sweet,” he said, taking a particularly large sip of the blueberry slushies.

Something sparkled in Dee’s eyes and Roman froze with the straw in his mouth.

“You do know that you’re basically indirectly kissing me, don’t you, loser?” stated Dee casually as if he was discussing why it’s light during daytime.

The drops of slushie that was still tingling on Roman’s tongue forcefully made their way to the pavement as he started coughing abruptly, choking on his own saliva and air. Meanwhile Dee started laughing so loudly that the sound was surely to be heard two or even three streets away from there. The cup with the slushie fell on the ground and the liquid spilled across the pavement, creating a blue puddle. Deegan thought that the look on Roman’s face was totally worth the prize of the drink though.

Only when Dee’s lungs started to burn craving for oxygen, did he take a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Roman finally straightened up but before he could angrily deliver any remark he had on his mind, Dee wheezed again pointing at Roman’s perplexed face.

“You have fucking blue sprinkles on your chin, genius.” he snorted mercifully.

Fair amount of red blush crawled on Roman’s cheeks. Quickly, he wiped the chin with his hand but instead of getting rid of the blue drops, he smeared them even further.

“Well, great.” he grumbled in reply, looking through his pockets in search of a tissue. “I’m already turning into a snake that you are. Thank you for your slimy gems, Dee.”

“Actually, you’ve always been a cold-blooded bitch, Roman. So really turning into a snake wouldn’t make much of a difference for you anyway.”

Roman prepared himself for the familiar sound of whistling and growling that usually followed sentences like that but this time, all he heard was silence and Dee’s heavy breathing. He looked around. He got so caught up in the game that he forgot where they were. What was even more shocking though was that Dee and him were standing all alone on the empty street. His eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the surroundings. He could have sworn that he had just seen Evan and the rest of the group…

“They left the moment I called you ‘nitwit’” said Deegan noticing Roman’s confusion. “I guess our shenanigans were just too much for them to handle.” he added shrugging.

The sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon, tinting the sky with the shades of golden specks. For some reason they reminded Roman of the sparks in Dee’s eyes.

“Well, to me they came across as weak from the beginning,” he replied finally, trying to pretend that he didn’t see just how much the other was avoiding his gaze. “I guess my mission here is over then…” he added hopelessly.

As soon as these words left his mouth he felt an unpleasant pain growing in his chest. It wasn’t unfamiliar - or at least didn’t feel like something strange. Maybe it always was there, but Roman never cared enough to acknowledge it. The realization hit him hard moments later, when Dee sighed loudly. Roman didn’t want this day to end. He had fun. Despite all the concerns he had - today he had fun. And it wasn’t because of Eran or whatever his name was. It wasn’t because of Orange Skirt or Thick Glasses. It wasn’t even because of melting slushie on the pavement. It was because of Dee.

He always had lots of fun with Dee.

Those unspoken words were stuck in his throat, bruising his sensitive flesh and ego. Him, Roman, someone who was a man of many words and even more kind smiles, was now standing in front of one of the most important people in his life and he was practically mute.

Dee hummed softly, still avoiding Roman’s eyes. He seemed unbothered and it hurt more than it should.

“Text me your address and toppings,” said Dee finally.

“What?” asked Roman dumbly, cursing the confusion in his voice.

“The pizza?” sighed Dee, arching his eyebrow, “I promised, I remember. So don’t worry. You’re free now.” he smiled but it was a strained smile. Roman knew all of Deegan’s smiles: from the mocking one through the evil one up to the honest dorky laugh. Over all those years, he learnt to distinguish and love them. This one? It wasn’t a smile Roman wanted to see on Dee’s face. Not now nor ever.

“Ah, right…” he mumbled numbly when all he wanted was to ask Dee what was wrong.

They stood in complete silence for a few minutes, Roman unsuccessfully trying to catch Dee’s gaze. It was weird being together without the air filled with fights and insults. It was weird but also surprisingly comfortable. The only thing destroying the moment was tense muscles under Dee’s skin and a certain uneasiness that was radiating from him. Roman could feel that something was wrong but he couldn't bring himself to ask. After all who was Roman to Dee? Nothing more than official enemy and unofficial fake best friend.

The odd silence was broken by a loud tune announcing a new text message. Hesitantly Dee pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans. Whatever someone texted it apparently was funny because moments later Dee’s lips spread in a shy smile. He glanced at Roman behind his phone, as if he wasn’t sure if the latter was still there.

“Yonnah, texted me.” he said casually and Roman blinked with surprise.

“Sorry, who?” he asked politely.

“Yonnah.” repeated Dee, searching for some kind of recognition on Roman’s face. Finding none he sighed, “One of the guys we’ve been hanging out with all day long. The one with specs…” he provided helpfully.

“Ah! Thick Glasses!” clapped Roman with understanding.

”The only thick thing here is your head.” purred Dee and just like that the heavy atmosphere was gone.

“From the other side, the only non-thick thing here are your thighs.” grinned Roman.

Dee grimaced. “That was kinda lame.”

Roman chuckled in response, for the first time not feeling an absolute and overwhelming need to reply with something equally sharp and mean.

“Yeah, it was…” he agreed carefully.

Deegan looked at him visibly stunned. It wasn’t just an agreement. Both of them knew that. It was something new, a step forward maybe. Someone could call that a peace offering but they never were at the state of war. Nothing remotely close to hate radiated from golden eyes when Dee was talking to Roman. Ever. For Roman he held only shy kindness mixed with playfulness.

“I was thinking, Dee…” Roman cleared his throat, “Maybe after all we could get that pizza together… I mean. We don't have to if you don’t want to but… God, don’t let me ramble, this is terrible,” he hopelessly looked at the other.

If it was possible Dee’s eyes grew even wider and his mouth was hanging open. Then he blinked rapidly few times in a row.

“You want to hang out… With me?” asked Dee carefully as if he wasn’t sure if it’s not another joke.

Roman nodded quickly. “Pretty much so. I think it’s high time for us to hang out properly don't you agree?” he said, scratching his head. It sounded terribly lame.

And yet somehow Dee was beaming. His eyes were sparkling under the artificial light of the lamp above their heads. The scar running across his cheek seemed to be just another line of his awfully toothy smile. Roman’s heart melted on the spot.

“I’d actually love that.” nodded Dee finally and almost instantly turned on his heel to walk down the street. He stopped however after barely few meters just to glance over his shoulder and wink at Roman, “Don’t get me wrong. This is pure business for me. If I go with you, we will split the bill, right?”

Roman laughed under his breath, already setting off in Dee’s direction.

“Yeah… I guess we will do that.” he said to himself. “I guess, we will…”

----

That evening Dee was sitting on his bed waiting for Roman to finish taking a shower. He wasn’t sure how or why had he offered Roman to crash over at his place. It was natural. Having Roman around was always natural to Dee. It always had been.

Yet, over all evening long neither of them said the magical word.

Friends.

Maybe they were friends indeed. Maybe they were friends way, way before Dee asked Roman for a favour this morning. Maybe they were yet to become real friends.

Once again, Dee hummed and opened his phone searching for a text from Yonnah. He found it funny how a silly text, pushed him to make a decision that might had been one of the most important decisions of his life.

“I’m glad that you finally got yourself a normal best friend

actually no

scratch ‘normal’

you two are fcking nuts”

The end.

PS I'm heavily considering writing a sequel to this story in which our lads would become something more than just best friends. If you'd be up for that let me know if you wanna be tagged :)

General taglist:

@depressed-alone @changeling-ash @dear-lover-dearest @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @calmingthoughtsinyourhead @zo-geeky @fandomfreak-19 @thegnatnat @inha-led @tree4life25 @panic-at-theeverywhere @reallyanextrovertipromise @shit-happens-bitchachos@pastel-patton123 @pinkeasteregg @greymane902 @princeyssash @ilovemyspoopydad @musicphanpie-b @all-these-trees-stealing-mah-o2 @birosezz @winged-outlaw @anxious-fander-talian-bean @lizaelsparrow @moonstonefox12 @pastelnerd101 somecrappyclonemysticalstrawberryface @ninjago2020 donteatmyassghostie toriwithacamera moxiety–sanders101 confinesofpersonalknowledge xxladystarlightxx wheeitsvee a-very-optimistic-realist narniasfinestavengingsociopath thequeensqueer allycat31415 rileys-main-blog-spotroman-is-a-dramatic-prince virgil-my-diamond justanotherproblem faacethefacts beautifully-terribly logical-but-anxious queen-of-all-things-snuggly seabellart @generalfandomfabulousness lostin—translation knine-nights @poisonedapples @talhaddelpla @punk-and-flowers @quietlypondering @milomeepit 0joodles0 grape-soda-city-kid sanders-sides-stuff lonelysoul43 imtooaromaticforthis @romanasanders

#roceit #platonic roceit #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sanders sides #vic writes #sanders sides fic #roceit fic #enemies to best friends #etc etc

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