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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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All Secrets Come Out In Good Time

A Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: I wrote this a long ass time ago, but never posted it to Tumblr, so here's an actual new story! Enjoy! -Thorne

She wondered what life would’ve been like for her had she never signed her contract with Wayne Enterprises. Maybe living retired and off the savings of her modeling career, sipping margaritas at the local beach bar without a care in the world? She huffed as she poured another glass of wine thinking, probably not sitting on my couch with a broken heart. The feelings still lingered, churning slowly into bitterness that made her feel ashamed.

She knew how busy his life was, especially with his nightly activities. But somewhere deep down, she wanted him to give her the real reason behind their departure, instead of the “It’s not you, it’s me” bullshit line he’d given her. Still, the reality of it was thrown in her face, and here she was on her couch, drowning her sorrows in wine he’d bought her.

Her mind lingered on the memories of them, and with those memories, came the questions. Did he actually love her? Did he love her the way she loved him? Did any of the time they shared in those two years mean anything? It did to her—she loved him. Hell, she loved his children like they were her own too.

Something warm fell on her hand and she looked down, seeing a droplet of water resting on the back of it. She blinked and her vision blurred as more tears began to fall from her eyes. Her hands moved to her face, wiping furiously, but no matter how many times she did, they kept falling, and she found herself falling deeper into heartbreak.

***Two Years Earlier***

She stepped into the ballroom, taking note of the eyes that immediately found her; she paid them no mind as she made her way deeper into the crowds, occasionally greeting her fellow models and higher-ups. The crowd seemed to part for her as she passed, making her feel like royalty, and she flashed them the million-watt smile she had perfected so long ago.

A few moments later, a warm hand brushed her arm and she looked up, seeing her employer smiling at her; she gave him one in return. “It’s good to see you, (Y/N). You look gorgeous.”

She hummed, feeling her cheeks warm at the compliment he’d given her. “Thank you, Mister Wayne.” She ran a hand down the silk fabric of the shimmering, black gown. “The dress is the new one the company has been designing.”

He eyed her dress and quipped, “Then it’s good that we had you model it for us.” He leaned in, his smile turning flirtatious. “You look absolutely beautiful in it.”

(Y/N) looked away, a bashful smile crossing her lips. “Mister Wayne, you’re just flattering me.”

He hummed, a small chuckle passing from him. “Maybe…is it working?”

She glanced back at him and after a second, she nodded. “It is.”

“Wonderful.” He motioned to her. “May I escort you around? I didn’t see you come in with anyone.”

(Y/N) nodded, watching as his arm fit around her waist, and she felt his hand brush her hip. They walked around, greeting the other socialites, when a pair made their presence known in front of them.

“Mister Wayne! Sir! It’s good to see you at the party.”

(Y/N) could feel his hand tense ever-so-slightly, and she saw him flash a fake smile. “Well Henry, this is my party.” The man laughed, and his wife smiled at (Y/N); she could feel the loathing from her spot.

“You’re that new model that just signed with Mister Wayne, aren’t you, Miss…”

She bit the inside of her cheek and smiled as she nodded. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N). And yes, I am.”

The woman eyed her before quipping humorlessly, “I didn’t know they let…older women model in the company.”

The insult practically smacked (Y/N) across the face and before she could stop it, she bit out, “And I didn’t know they let bitter old harpies with pathetic grudges into parties that were meant for companies that weren’t in bankruptcy.”

The woman’s jaw went slack at her response, and the man beside her stepped forward. “How dare you speak to my wife like that?! How dare you assume our company is in debt?!”

(Y/N) simply blinked as she stared at him. “Because it is, Mister Brighton.” She gathered her thoughts. “Your company has lost more in the past six months than it has since it’s decline in the early nineties. Your best bet would be to try and get Mister Wayne to make a deal that would save your company.”

She glowered at the older couple, her voice hardening as she declared, “Don’t let my age fool you. I might be older than many of the models Wayne Enterprises hires, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a brain. I’ll have you know I graduated valedictorian at my high school and my university. I’ve modeled all my life. Wayne Enterprises started a line for women in my age group and I was offered a job. Do I need to explain anything else to you? Or have your behaviors been apparent enough?”

The two of them stuttered out responses before they excused themselves, shuffling away as fast as they could. (Y/N) watched them as they left, then her eyes moved to the man still beside her.

Her eyes widened in shock as she realized he was still there. “Oh my. You—I—oh dear.” She blinked as she tried to apologize to him. “I am so sorry, Mister Wayne. I—I just got—”

“Carried away in the absolute decimation of someone who insulted you?” She paused at his words, taking in the sight of the grin working its way on his face. “I have to say, seeing you shove that back in their face was…pretty entertaining(Y/N).”

She huffed a laugh at his words, shaking her head. “You’re something else, Mister Wayne.”

He grinned, tightening his grip on her waist. “I find I’m just enough for what’s needed.”

“Uh huh,” she doubted with an arched brow.

He winked. “I am.”

“I’ll take your word for it then.” She replied jokingly.

***A Few Months Later***

“You know, I never actually expected you to fly us to the Swiss Alps.” She turned around from the large window, watching as he reclined on the couch.

“And why didn’t you expect me to?”

She shrugged as she walked around the couch, leaning over the back, and wrapping her arms around his neck; she rested her chin on his shoulder and turned her face to him. “Dunno…just kinda mentioned it offhandedly. I never thought you’d take me so seriously, Bruce.”

He smiled at her response, turning his head so they were face to face. “I take everythingseriously, (Y/N).”

She nodded. “That you do.” (Y/N) leaned forward, pressing her lips to his lightly, then she rested her forehead against his. They stared at one another until she whispered, “I love you.”

He blinked, obviously shocked at her open admittance, but he soon recovered, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek as he replied, “I love you too, (Y/N).” She smiled at him, then pressed her face into his neck; he chuckled at her. “Embarrassed?”

“Oh,shut up…it’s not every day you tell the man you love that you love him, and he does the same.”

There was a moment of silence, then she felt her body being tugged, and she realized he was pulling her over the side of the couch. She tumbled into his lap, and his arms wound around her waist, pulling her close. (Y/N) relaxed against him, then she felt his lips press light kisses into her neck. She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder, and she felt his lips stop.

As they moved away, he asked, “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”

She turned and looked at him, feeling her heart flutter in her chest. “I’m just really glad that you and I are here…together.”

Bruce smiled down at her, cupping her cheek. “Me too.”

***A Year Later***

She opened the door, seeing him stand on the other side; she smiled at him and gestured him in. “You know, when I gave you the key, Bruce, I meant for you to use it.” She expected a laugh from him, but none came, and she tipped her head to the side. “Are you alright? You look tense.”

He nodded, taking off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack. “I’m fine…just thinking, (Y/N).”

“Is it anything you want to talk about?”

He paused, meeting her eyes, then they drifted to the table, and he saw the dinner she’d prepared for them. “After dinner.”

(Y/N) wanted to keep the conversation, but she decided against it, and nodded. “Alright then.” She wrapped an arm around his and led him into the kitchen. “Since you called on short notice, I assumed you had something important to tell me, so…” She motioned to the food. “I made your favorite.”

A small smile graced his lips and he looked at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She nodded, grabbing the bottle of wine as she watched him sit. “Of course, Bruce. I love to spoil you.”

***

The dinner went smoothly, and they each told the other about their day, then moved the conversation into the living room. (Y/N) sat on the couch beside him, resting her wine glass on her thigh as she watched him.

She hummed at his silence. “Kinda quiet over there…are you sure everything’s alright?”

He looked at his hands, then let out a sigh, and (Y/N) held her breath, waiting for him to finally tell her the secret she’d known for the longest time. It had been by chance that she’d learned his secret identity, and everyone would say blame it on Dick, who saw her and immediately said, “Hey it’s mom!”. Quite the running joke between his kids, who had essentially bonded with her over the year and a half that Bruce and she had been dating. She made them promise not to tell Bruce about her knowing, her telling them “It’s not our secret to tell, it’s his. And I need to hear it from him when he’s ready.”.

(Y/N) thought back to that time, and reached out a hand, taking his gently as she murmured, “Whatever you need to tell me, I’m listening Bruce. And I won’t judge you.”

He sighed once more, pulling his hand away and reaching into his pocket; he pulled something out and held it out, saying, “I think I should give this back to you.”

(Y/N) eyes moved to the item in his hand, and she felt her breath leave her lungs at the sight of the silver key in between his fingers. “I…I don’t understand?”

He shut his mouth, putting the key on the coffee table beside them as he said, “It’s not anything you’ve done, (Y/N). I just think we need to see other people.”

She blinked, not understanding where it was coming from. “But I…I thought…” (Y/N) couldn’t form the words she needed to tell him, and he rose from the couch.

“I think I should go.”

She jumped up, following him. “You can’t just leave, Bruce! You can’t just leave it like this!”

He stopped as he grabbed his jacket, turning to her. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your sorry! I want your real reason!”

“I gave you—”

She cut him off, scoffing, “Oh, that’s a load of bullshit and we bothknow it!” (Y/N) stepped forward, winding her hands in his shirt. “We’ve been dating for almost two years. You can’t look at me and tell me that we need to see other people. There’s something going on.”

“Just talk to me. Talk to me, Bruce,” she pled with him.

His hands rose from his side and he gently took hers in his, removing them from his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

She blinked, too stunned to even say a word as he apologized once more and left her standing in the entrance of her apartment, alone and heartbroken.

***Present***

He pulled off the cowl and sank into the chair in front of the Batcomputer; a bottle of water appeared in his view and he took it, looking up at Alfred. “Thanks Alfred.”

The butler nodded, handing out the other bottles to everyone around them. A joke between them made them laugh, and he watched them, a small smile crossing his lips.

He watched Jason nudge Dick and nod to him. “Is hell freezing over, or is the old man actually smiling at us?” The others looked over and he watched eyebrows raise in slight surprise.

It irked him, and he quipped, “Just because I don’t smile often doesn’t mean I can’t smile.”

“Are you sure? Kinda looks like your face is cracking over there, B.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at Dick’s comment, and he stood up, stretching his arms over his head as he made his way to the lockers. They followed, and each began peeling off their suits and pulling on after clothes.

“You know what would be good right now?” They looked at Jason who was sitting on the bench. “(Y/N)’s apple pie and homemade sea salt vanilla ice-cream.”

They groaned at his words and Dick looked over at Bruce, who wore a clouded expression. “We never did get the real reason why you ended things with her.” He paused, looking at his brothers. “We liked her. Even Damian did.”

Damian nodded at this and turned to Bruce. “Why did you leave her, father? She was the only tolerable woman you’ve ever brought to the manor.”

Jason reached over and riffled his youngest brother’s hair. “That’s because she didn’t take any of your shit two-bit. She acted like a mom when it came to you.” Damian batted Jason’s hand away, glaring at him; Jason turned to Bruce. “Answer the question, old man. Why’d you run (Y/N) off?”

Bruce sighed, sitting down on the bench, knowing he wasn’t getting out of it; he motioned around him. “Look at what we do. I couldn’t tell her about this. She would’ve run for the hills had I told her.”

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. “So, your choice was to break up with her to keep her sane and safe?” Bruce nodded.

Tim stepped forward, his gaze shifting between the others before turning to back to his father. “Bruce, I don’t know if you know this…but (Y/N) already knows what we do.”

Bruce’s eyes went wide, and he looked up at Tim in shock. “What?”

Tim nodded, motioning to Dick. “Dick accidently called her ‘mom’ one night when we saw her, and she put two and two together.”

Bruce blinked at the revelation; he’d never in a million years assume that she’d learned their secret early. “She…never said anything…”

“That’s because she was waiting for you to tell her,” Jason remarked with a smart-ass glare.

“She…was?”

The others stared expectingly at him and Damian said, “She told us that it was your right to tell her and yours alone.” He paused, looking at him. “You should go to her and apologize.”

Bruce stared at them before nodding and rising from his seat. “I probably should.”

They grinned, following him out when a slightly unnerved Alfred came to them. “Master Bruce…you need to come at once.”

“What’s wrong?”

Alfred motioned up the stairs. “It’s Miss (Y/N). She’s here…and she’s…inebriated.”

Jason barked a laugh, but quickly shut his mouth at the feeling of Dick’s elbow in his side, and they watched Bruce run up the steps to her. They followed, of course, and stuck their heads out of the doorway to see the conversation because they were nosey as hell—though it’s not like they didn’t learn that from their father. Bruce walked over to her, holding out his hands to try and balance her as she wobbled.

She slapped his hands away from her, a glare in her eyes. “Don’t touch me. I can handle myself.” He frowned, lowering his hands and she pointed at him. “I don’t make habits of talking to my exes, but I need to have a conversation with you.” He nodded and she poked his chest. “I want the real reason you dumped me.”

(Y/N) paused, lowering her head as she breathed to herself, “Oh my god, I sound like a crazy ex-girlfriend.” Bruce snorted and she whipped her head up, glowering, “That wasn’t supposed to be funny to you, Mister Wayne.” He shut his mouth and she poked his chest again. “I’ve been waiting patiently for the past two years, waiting for you to tell me your secret, and the night that you tell me we need to talk, I think you’re going to, then you dump me and tell me we need to see other people.”

She grunted at him. “I know you’re Batman and whatever reason you dumped me was a crock of shit and I want the real one. Now.” (Y/N) glared at him until he sighed and nodded, taking her hand, and leading her into the study. On the way, she saw the boys and she waved at them. “Hi boys! I’m sorry I’m in a rare form right now.”

They simply grinned and waved back as they watched them enter the cave. Bruce led her down the steps, at one point having to carry her because she couldn’t take so many close steps.

When they arrived, she stared at it in shock. “I…knew you were him…but…” She twirled around, feeling his hands steadying her as she did. “But it’s so much realer in person.”

Bruce nodded, looking at the cave. “It is, isn’t it.”

(Y/N) turned to him, a heart wrenching look on her face. “Is this the real reason you left me?” He nodded silently and she asked, “Why?”

A moment of silence passed before he sighed and said, “The lives we live are dangerous, (Y/N)…and I…I just didn’t want you to get caught up in all of it.”

She stared at him before quipping, “Duly noted and while I appreciate the sentiment, that wasn’t your decision to make.” She took his hand. “A relationship is based on two people not just one.”

He nodded again and they lapsed into silence until he looked at her and questioned, “Did you really get drunk and come over here to get me to tell you that?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat before pulling back her hand and turning around. “Everyone needs a bit of liquid courage every now and then to face what’s weighing on them.” She glanced at him. “I don’t take half-ass answers from anyone. Not even you.” (Y/N) nodded at him and started making her way to the stairs when she felt him grab her hand again; she turned and looked at him, seeing a hopeful look on his face.

“Stay with me?” he asked.

She grunted at him. “We aren’t dating anymore, remember? You broke up with me like a textbook rich boyfriend does.”

Bruce stopped to her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulled her close. “What if I apologize for it?”

She went silent for a second, drawing circles in his chest with her finger, then she looked at him and murmured, “You’re going to have to give me a hell of a night in order to apologize for this. Maybe…behave and do everything I tell you?”

A smirk wound his lips and he flirted, “I think I can manage that.” (Y/N) hummed at him, and he raised a hand, cupping her cheek. “But I think right now, youshould get some sleep before we have it.”

“Hmm…darn shame, I was really looking forward to not walking for a week.” She paused and looked at him. “Does this mean we’re dating again?”

Bruce nodded. “If you’ll have me. I know it’s difficult to be around all of us.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I don’t think anyone sane could really hold their own in your family.” She paused. “Remember the first time I came over? Damian made me play chess with him.” She waved her hands around. “I still don’t even know how to play chess!” Bruce laughed as he helped her up the stairs. “Bruce, I don’t know how to play chess.”

“I know, darling.”

“I beat him at it.”

“I know you did, darling. He’s still bitter about it.”

“He is?”

“Of course, he is. He’s a perfectionist.”

(Y/N) grinned as she nudged him. “So are you.”

Bruce stopped moving and gazed at her. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

She nodded at his apology. “Sorry for coming to your house wine-drunk and demanding a reason for our breakup.”

“Don’t worry…you’re not the first who’s done so.”

“Bruce Wayne!”

He laughed at her shock, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I was joking, (Y/N).”

She grunted as he led her into the study. “You’d better be.” (Y/N) waved at the boys who were still in the room. “Hi boys! Bye boys!”

They wore amused grins and waved at her as they walked to his bedroom. Bruce helped her out of her clothes and into a t-shirt of his and they crawled into the bed, her curled up on his chest, his arms wound tightly around her.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

“I know.”

“I missed it.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

There was a moment of silence then he murmured, “I love you, (Y/N).” He expected a reply, but when he received none, he looked down, seeing her asleep. Bruce huffed a quiet laugh before pressing a kiss to her temple and reaching over to turn out the lamp.

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jortsaaaaaaart · 3 years

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Three Hearts- Tendou x Reader x Ushijima

Soulmate AU- updates will be posted to https://archiveofourown.org/works/32830702/chapters/81464533

You remembered Sendai as being cold, so, so cold. The summers were short but they were also filled with many days spent exploring. You were part of a binational family. Your mother was from the United States, your father from Japan. Most of your early childhood was spent bouncing between the two countries before, finally, it was decided that the schools in Japan were much (much) better. It wasn’t too much of a culture shock. But the freedom Sendai offered was intoxicating. In Japanese culture it was perfectly acceptable to send your child out on errands, or let them visit the local park, on their own.

It was on one of these after school excursions that you ran into your future best friend.

A humid June evening had you trailing along the bank of the local river. Cicadas and the current drowned out almost all other noise. You were debating turning back or taking a wade in the water when you saw a shock of red. There was another kid sitting by the river. One with a pretty vibrant bowl cut. However, when you got closer you realised his hair wasn't the only thing that was red.

"Uh, hey." You murmured, feeling more than a little awkward. "Are you okay?" He almost jumped out of his skin. Wide red eyes snapped towards you before hiding away.

The redhead hastily wiped at his eyes. "Y-Yeah."

"That didn't sound all that convincing." With a sigh you plopped down next to him, watching as he curled in on himself. You'd never been one to mind your own business, not even as a child. Seeing someone crying by themselves was an instant invitation for you to barge in and try to help.

"I'm fine."

"You're crying."

"No I'm not!"

"Hmm. . ." You leaned back, looking over the river. "So what's your name then? If you don't tell me I'll just have to call you cry baby."

“. . . It’s Tendou Satori.” He muttered. Tendou was eyeing you warily, like a stray dog afraid to take a treat from a stranger.

"I'm (L/N) (F/N). If you want me to leave I can, but you just looked so sad sitting here alone." You gave him the warmest smile you could before returning your attention to the water. Satori's red eyes stayed locked on you but he didn't ask you to leave. A few moments passed in silent solidarity before he spoke up.

"I'm usually alone."

"I know how you feel." You sighed.

"You do?"

"Well, yeah. I moved around so much before grade school that I don't know anyone here." You paused. "But, hey, now I know you, right?" Your smile made Tendou forget all about the tears. His cheeks flushed pink under the setting sun.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Asked Satori, who desperately wanted to believe you were being genuine. But years of abuse had a hold on his heart.

You blinked. "Why wouldn't I be nice?"

". . . 'Cause I. . . Everyone says I'm a-"

"Ah! Look guys, it's the monster!" A group of children walked up behind the two of you. They were pointing at Satori with mocking grins. "You shouldn't get so close to him, he'll gobble you up!"

"Monster?" You glanced over at him but he was purposefully avoiding your eyes. If possible he would've liked to completely melt into the grass. Away from everything and everybody. But you weren't sinking into the ground, you were rising up. The bullies took a step back as you stomped up the embankment. "What gives you the right to call him that, huh?"

"W-What?" The ringleader stammered. "You've seen him, he's a freak! He shouldn't be allowed near us normal huma-"

He fell to the ground, clutching his cheek. Everyone's eyes were wide and glued to you.

"Y- You just punched me!?"

"And I'll do it again!" You stared down the boy while his friends helped him to his feet. Before you could say anything else, or fight a 1 v 4, someone grabbed your hand. Tendou dragged you away while you stuck your tongue out at the still stunned bullies.

Neither of you would ever forget that day. It was the start of a lifelong friendship, and eventually, something more.

On your first year of middle school you officially learned what soulmates were. It was assumed most parents would give you the talk before then, but the school board wanted youths to be prepared.

"They taught us about soulmates today in class." You were both lounging around in his room reading the newest Shonen Jump. You sat next to him on the bed, trying to keep up with his reading speed.

"Yeah?" You hummed.

"When you turn 18 your soulmate's name appears on your wrist. . . But, if you're older than them you have to wait for their birthday so the marks can appear at the same time. . . And then some people don't even get a soulmate." He wasn't paying attention to the manga anymore. His eyes were fixed to the floor while his brain waged war against itself. Tendou had been sure you were his soulmate since that first night. The butterflies in his stomach still hadn't gone away and every time he looked at you he felt like a pile of mush.

But, still, the 'I think you're my soulmate.' died on his tongue replaced with something much more depreciating. "I'm probably one of those people. Monsters don't get soulmates after all." His grin was shaky at best and you saw right through it.

"Don't call yourself that." You chided. "And of course you have a soulmate, Tori. Someone out there doesn't know how lucky they are. Soulmates with the best volleyball ball player ever. And the greatest friend ever, too."

You flopped down, holding your wrist in front of you. "I don't know if I'm excited or nervous."

"Well, it's a good thing, isn't it? Having a soulmate? You'll have someone who belongs with you and will love you no matter what." You pouted at him and he smiled, continuing with his speech. "I can't wait till we turn eighteen. And I know you can't wait either. Even if you're being a baby now."

Tendou had your eighteenth birthday planned out for years. Step one, he'd take you to the river where you met. Step two, shower you with presents and affection. And step three, wait for your soulmate's name, his name, to appear. Step four (profit), live happily ever after. However, like many things in life, it didn't go quite as planned.

On March 21st, right after the end of your final year of junior high, your mother died. It wasn't a shock, she had been sick for months, but the pain was still unbearable. Your mother's side of the family wanted to bury her in the family plot. An old tradition from an old, rural, part of America. Your father gladly handed the responsibility off to them.

Tendou remembered begging his parents to let him see you off at the airport. He remembered how red and puffy your eyes were, the sad smile on your face when you promised him you'd be back soon.

But you weren't.

Your father was in no shape to take care of you. Burying himself in his work to try and forget his loss. February came around and you had your 16th birthday in America. The first year of highschool had started without you. Tendou sent you pictures from Shiratorizawa every day, making you promise to try and get back as soon as possible.

Another February came and went. Your father was getting better and you were slowly but surely convincing him Japan was the right place for you to be. Tendou texted you every day, talking to you about his volleyball matches, his friend Ushijima, how much he missed you.

It was your third year of highschool and finally, finally, you were heading home. You told Tendou the news as soon as you knew. He seemed even more excited than you. You knew why, even if you didn't say it. Tendou had always been the one you thought of when you imagined your soulmate. But. . . There was something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. The whole thing made you nervous, so you kept your feelings to yourself.

Tendou stayed up all night on your birthday, hoping, praying. His eyes never left his wrist for a second and finally at 2:45 a.m. , something happened. Your name, in your sloppy, too quick, handwriting, appeared. The relief of ten years of wondering washed over him. He laughed, breathless and giddy. He immediately messaged you, sending you a picture of his wrist before a barrage of messages, most of them legible.

A minute passed by, then ten, then twenty. . .

You had to see it too, right? So why hadn't you said anything? You hadn't called, texted, or, hell, even emailed him. Tendou started to feel his heart sink with each passing moment.

What if you were disappointed?

Tendou's breath caught in his throat and he could feel his face burn. His phone clattered to the ground as he sank down into his bed. He tried to calm himself down, he didn't know what time it was where you were. Maybe you were out celebrating your birthday or sleeping? He just needed to sleep it off and give you time to respond.

Chest tight, Tendou waited. He waited till hours turned to days and suddenly it was March and his heart was broken. He wasn't sure what was going on at this point. You two had almost never gone a day without talking. But you hadn't read any of his texts or snaps. Eventually he stopped messaging you all together.

But he hadn't given up. He knew you were flying back to Japan soon and he was determined to ask you what the hell was going on.

By mid March you had moved back into your old home. Your father had graciously gotten a moving company for you and your meager belongings. Somehow he failed to show up himself though. You didn't blame him though, he was busy and you haven't been the best company recently. Before leaving America your grandma had begun calling you the walking dead. You were barely sleeping, your eyes were puffy with designer bags hanging heavily underneath. She understood why you were feeling so down and she was empathetic, but the rest of your small town wasn't.

You thought about the timing of it all as you began to unpack. The first box, full of books and notes, was barely empty before the doorbell rang.

Tendou was standing on your doorstep. Your soulmate was standing before you, and your first thought was to shrink back and pretend you weren't home.

He rang the bell again. "(Y/N)! I know you're home! I just. . . I just want to talk okay? . . . Please?"

Tendou stepped back as the door swung open. You were holding your wrist close to your chest, looking anywhere but at him. He could see how red your eyes were, though, and thought they matched his completely.

"Why?" He muttered. One pitiful idiot to another. "Was it so fucking awful? Having my name on your wrist?"

"It wasn't. . ." You started. "Tendou, it wasn't just your name."

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multifandomlover01 · 3 years

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Taking Care of Blithe

Albert Blithe x Reader (Platonic)

@softliebgott was interested in what I had written about Blithe, so here’s one thing I’ve written

You can find the companion piece/sequel here

Word count: ~1.3k (this isn’t technically finished, btw (it doesn’t even technically have a proper title), I’m just posting what I have, which is most of the idea, I honestly don’t know where I was going with it or how to end it…I never know how to end things)

Key: Y/F/N and Y/N = Your First Name, Y/L/N = Your Last Name

Disclaimer: I do not own Band of Brothers. I do not own the characters. I do not own the scenes. All credits go to the appropriate people.

As if dropping into Normandy and being disoriented beyond all belief trying to find your way in the dark wasn’t bad enough, the taking of Carentan didn’t go over too well either. There were several wounded.

Setting up an aid station in a fairly good building was moderately difficult. Aid stations in combat zones obviously weren’t in places that were built for that purpose. You made do with what you had.

As you were helping bring in as much supplies as you had, a soldier wandered in, disoriented. He bumped into a table and some things clattered.

“Can, I, uh, can I get some help here?”

You were pretty much the only one who had seen and heard him and you weren’t going to ignore him, so you handed off your box of stuff to Roe, who gave you a ‘good luck’ look before leaving with the box.

You went over to the man.

“E-excuse me?”

You startled him.

“Y-yes?”

“I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N, I’m a medic in Easy Company.”

“Y/N. I remember you. Albert Blithe.”

The name rang a bell. He had been with Easy since Toccoa.

“Albert, yes. Um, what seems to be the matter?”

He didn’t seem to be physically injured.

“I can’t see, ma’am.”

“You can’t see?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Um,” no amount of training could’ve prepared you for this, “have you been hit?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Um, ok, why don’t you sit here?”

You sat him on the floor. You didn’t exactly have tables or beds set up just yet. Or at least designated for use yet.

You looked at his eyes.

“Blithe, is it ok if I touch your face?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright.”

You positioned yourself so that you could get a real proper look at his eyes although nothing seemed wrong with them as far as you could see.

There was no redness. There was no discoloration. There was no discernible injury.

“I’m gonna move across from you, ok?”

“Ok.”

“I’m just gonna be right here.”

“Ok.”

“Blithe?”

He looked at you.

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” You held up none.

“I don’t know. I can’t see.”

“Why don’t you take a guess?”

“Two?”

You sighed and moved back over to him. You waved your hand in front of his face. He really seemed to not be able to see.

“Was I right?”

“No. You’re sure nothing happened, Private?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything kinda just went black.”

“Ok.”

“You don’t know what’s wrong with me, do you, ma’am?”

“No, Private, to be honest with you, I don’t.”

“Then why can’t I see?”

“I don’t know.”

“Am I gonna be ok?”

“Of course you are.”

“I didn’t wanna let anyone down, but I was just so scared.”

“It’s ok. We’re all scared. This is a scary situation.”

“But I’m not supposed to be scared! I’m supposed to be a soldier!”

“Soldiers get scared. We’re all still people, Blithe.”

“Yeah. I guess we are.”

You sat in silence for a few seconds.

“Am I gonna be alright?”

“Yes, you are. Is it ok if I leave you here for a bit? To go get something?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. I’ll be right back.”

“Ok.”

You got up and located Roe, who was right behind you tending to Winters.

You stood in front of the men.

“What’s wrong with him?” Winters asked you.

“He can’t see.”

“He…can’t see?”

“No. He says he can’t. And I believe him. I asked him how many fingers I was holding up in front of him and he said he didn’t know, that he couldn’t see. I told him just to guess and he said two. I wasn’t holding any fingers up and he had no idea. I waved my hand in front of his face and he seemed to show no indication that he could see it. But he says nothing happened. That things just went black. There’s no apparent injury. There’s no redness. There’s no discoloration. His eyes are fine.”

“Then why can’t he see?”

“I have no idea. Although he mentioned being scared. He may have been so scared that his brain couldn’t handle it.”

“And it made him blind?”

“This is really more psychological than physical. It’s probably temporary, seeing as there’s nothing physically wrong with his eyes. He was feeling an intense emotion. He was being overwhelmed psychologically. And it manifested itself physically. His brain couldn’t handle it, so it shut down a sense. It stopped processing input from his optic nerve.”

“Uh-huh.” You knew he hadn’t fully understood what you had said. Nor did he need to.

You turned to Roe.

“Do you happen to know where my stuff is?”

“Uh-huh, I put it over there,” he indicated a table a little ways behind you all.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

You moved passed them to the table.

You rooted through your medical supplies until you came across a little flashlight.

You went back over to Blithe. You crouched next to him. You slowly put a hand his shoulder.

“Blithe,” you whispered, “it’s just me. I’m back.”

“Oh. Ok. You took a long time.”

“Sorry. Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

“I kinda did. You’re really nice.”

“Thank you. Is it ok if I touch your face again and shine a light in your eyes?”

“Yeah.”

You did so. Nothing was wrong. His pupils dilated fine.

You sighed again.

“Something wrong, ma’am?”

“Well, the good news is there doesn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with you or your eyes.”

“I’m guessing the bad news is you have no explanation for why I can’t see?”

“No, I think you’ve got hysterical blindness.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve felt fear so intense that your brain didn’t know what to do, so it shut down one of your senses…temporarily.”

“Temporarily?”

“There’s nothing physically wrong with your eyes. There’s no injury or damage. You’ve been removed from the situation for long enough that your sight should return soon.”

“Should?”

“Just sit tight, alright? Take it easy sitting here. I’m gonna leave, okay?”

“Okay.”

You gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

You stood up and walked towards Winters and Roe.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

He stood up slowly.

“I’m okay. Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay. I think I’m okay.”

He slowly started to walk toward you.

“You can see?”

“God, I don’t know what happened. That hysterical blindness?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I think…I think I’m okay.”

“I told you that you would be.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

He started to walk past you a bit.

You stopped him.

“I wanna keep you here under observation for a little while, ok?”

“Then you can report back to your platoon.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, sir.”

You lead Blithe away to a bed that was free so he could rest.

After about an hour of taking care of other patients, you looked Blithe over again and cleared him.

You took a break and sat down. After a few minutes, Roe joined you. He gave you a canteen filled with water.

“Ah, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You know, you did good with Blithe.”

“You think so?”

“Don’t you think so?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. I looked after him, calmed him down, examined him, diagnosed him.”

“You did good.”

“Thanks. It seems like you did good with Lt. Winters.”

“Yeah, well, I got the bit of bullet out of his leg, but it needs to rest. He shouldn’t really be walking on it. He should be here resting. But he’s not. He’s the CO, and I get that, but he can’t just ignore things like this.”

“I’m honestly surprised he came in here in the first place and stayed as long as he did.”

He chuckled.

#band of brothers x reader #Albert blithe x reader #kinda #it’s platonic

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lampmeeting · 3 years

Note

D for Charles/Magnus, I for Magnus/Toki, L for Charles/Pickles, and F for Melm/JT.

eeehEHEHEHE DILF *rubs my little hands together* don't mind if i do~

D for Drunken Love Confession - Charles/Magnus

pre-klok. :') magnus has been chipping away at charles' resolve. there's just something about the bookish, put-together little chuck offdensen that makes magnus wanna break through all his defenses and see him come undone. he always did like a challenge. they have heated, passionate debates about the direction of the band. they get in each other's faces. magnus even kissed him once, but charles pushed him away, furious and blushing, and demanded he leave his office.

after six months of this weirdly charged back-and-forth they have, the band invites charles to come drinking with them to celebrate pickles' birthday. charles declines, concerned they're just inviting him to come because they want someone else to play designated driver. but magnus intervenes like "nah i'm driving tonight, promise. so go nuts." and charles seems to think it over... and eventually agrees.

so they all go out! at first charles seems to be pacing himself, but pickles gets shots, and it's all downhill from there. magnus, staying dutifully sober, watches the rest of the band + charles get sloppy and silly, not minding in the slightest the way charles leans against him a little in the booth and touches him when he laughs. he starts to regret not getting drunk himself, but he'd promised charles. it's enough just to see charles' mask slip, albeit not quite in the way magnus wanted. but he'll take it for now.

at the end of the night, magnus drops the band off at the apartment and then continues on to charles' place. he pulls up, and charles tries to get out of the car, but stumbles and falls. he's a lot more fucked up than magnus suspected. magnus helps him to the door, but charles seriously looks like he's about to black out, so he takes him inside, cleans him up a little, and puts him to bed (on his side, in the recovery position, he knows the drill). before he leaves, he can't help himself... he runs fingers through charles' sweaty hair and strokes his jaw. charles opens his eyes, seeming surprised that magnus is still there, and then... he smiles at him. a genuine smile. and as his eyes close again, he whispers something that freezes magnus in place.

"...mmfm...mmlove you..."

"...what?"

but charles is under again, and magnus leaves in a panic. charles doesn't, can't, have feeling for him. that's too much. magnus just wanted some fun, right? maybe get charles worked up enough for an angry fuck. but...love?

magnus can't sleep. the next time magnus sees charles, charles pulls him aside. "i apologize that you had to babysit me like that the other night. i can't exactly recall everything that happened, so if i said or did anything, ah...embarrassing, i'm very sorry."

so charles doesn't remember what he said. or he does and he's just trying to save face. magnus should be relieved about this, but for some reason his heart feels suddenly sore...

"oh, yeah, no...you were out like a light. don't worry about it."

I for "Idiots in Love" - Toki/Magnus

post-post-galaktikon. weirdly enough i'd probably write this from like nathan's pov or something. he's having everyone over to the house for some reason, maybe a holiday or his daughter's first birthday or something (her cool uncles wouldn't dream of missing it). this means..... rrugghhgh magnus is coming over. it's the first time he's interacted with magnus since pickles and charles' wedding, so maybe a good couple years, and he's not looking forward to it.

everyone arrives. toki and magnus are the last to show up, and nathan has to do a double-take because this is SO not magnus. half his hair is back in a ponytail, he's let his beard grow in some, and he's wearing a sweater?? and he's smiling? he genuinely seems happy to see nathan, gives him a hug, says a warm hello to abby.

over the course of the afternoon nathan has to keep looking at him and reminding himself that's magnus fucking hammersmith because he's just so... animated? friendly? he's sitting next to toki and they're holding hands, and when others are talking the two of them are making eyes at each other and cuddling and laughing at little things they seem to be sharing between themselves. they're being a couple of absolute goofballs together, and honestly it's a bit sickening to watch. is magnus just faking this?

at some point nathan excuses himself to the kitchen for something, and while he's in there he's joined by magnus, considerably more subdued.

"sorry, man, i just...i thought maybe we could talk for a sec."

so they talk. they catch up a little. nathan learns magnus has been hitting the therapy especially hard over the past year, making some meaningful strides. it's not an act, he's genuinely happier now. or at least trying to be.

"i mean, you know how it is, nate, right? doesn't abby make you wanna be better just because she exists and she loves you?"

okay, nathan can understand that. he still doesn't understand... them. but it really seems like magnus has turned a corner, which... good for him, he supposes. as long as he's treating toki well.

when they return to the party, nathan watches magnus sit back down with toki and give him a kiss like he'd been gone all month, and they giggle to themselves again. this time, it seems...all right.

L for "Love at First Sight" - Charles/Pickles

i'm gonna flip the script here!! i've already done the whole "charles sees pickles on stage and goes gaga for him" twice now... so i'd pull away from the 80s and do a fic where they actually did meet for the first time in the mid-90s when pickles was in dethklok.

so they've got their shitty original manager (the one from doomstar) still, and he's just not pulling his weight. he's managing a few other bands and his heart isn't in dethklok the way it used to be. pickles is worried they're stagnating, and when he learns that it's been magnus lately making sure they get booked, that's the last straw. they all come together, and they tell the dude to fuck off. but then this leaves them without a manager. magnus offers, but pickles has already been wary about how possessive magnus seems about the band recently, so when pickles says no the rest of them vote the same.

pickles blows through his old contacts looking to dig up some manager from his past who can either wants to manage dethklok or has connections to someone else. no dice. skwisgaar comes up with no one. magnus is still trying to campaign for himself. shit gets dire when somehow seth finds out dethklok is lacking management and leaves pickles a voicemail offering his "valuable fuckin' services". pickles blows his fucking top, swearing and screaming. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE GUY CAPABLE OF MANAGING A FUCKIN' BAND??"

the doorbell rings, and pickles, still raging, throws it open.

"WHAT??"

"ahh!"

it's just... a dude. like a normal-ass dude. glasses. a nice dress shirt and slacks. nice hair. handsome. he's nervous as shit, but that almost makes him more handsome.

"i, ah...i-i was told that van on the street belongs to, ah...to someone here? i clipped the, ah, the bumper. just a little. but it's noticeable."

anger forgotten, pickles just... stares at him. are his eyes green or brown? and that jawline...

the man shifts his weight just a bit, peeking into the apartment with wide, curious eyes. "sorry, that, ah... that's quite the drum kit."

"huh?" pickles looks back at it and steps inside, and the man follows as if he's simply meant to be there. "oh, yeah, thanks. you play?"

"hardly. a small jazz kit in college for a friend's music project but it, ah, obviously didn't go anywhere." the man glances around and seems to realize that he's just waltzed inside. "right, ah, so about the van--" he pulls out his card. charles f. offdensen of finch & associates. an honest-to-god lawyer. huh. so he's a smart guy. good-looking to boot. knows a bit about music, apparently. and he's looking to make things right about hitting the van...

pickles smiles, hearts in his eyes. "ya like metal, charlie?"

F for "Fake Dating" - Melmord/Twinkletits

aaahahah... okay. so, this would be when melm is living with john as part of his continued therapy. a few months pass, and they've actually become good friends, melm thinks, not just therapist and patient. it's nice living there with john.

and then, john gets a call from his ex-wife, joy. she's in town, and she wants to come over for dinner one night before she leaves. the only thing is, she's got her new fiance in tow. she and john ended on pretty mutual terms, so there's really no bitterness there, but even so, john knows it's going to be an unpleasant evening. and then there's the question of what to do about melmord.

"you can just stuff me in a back room and pretend i don't exist. i'll be real quiet."

"absolutely not, you've been watching too many sitcoms."

"excuse you, that's jane eyre."

john just doesn't exactly know how to approach explaining melmord's presence in the house. because he knows joy, and joy will ask.

"tell her i'm a friend who needed a place to crash?"

"joy knows i don't do friends anymore."

ouch go melm's feelings.

"well, uh... you could just tell her the truth? that i'm your patient and i live with you?"

john pulls a face. "absolutely not."

in a flash of sitcom inspiration, melm snaps his fingers. "i got it! i'm your boyfriend! we'll pretend to date!"

"pretend to--?? mel, honey, no. okay? i understand you're trying to help, but--"

"but what? what's your brilliant idea, doc?"

cut to john introducing melmord to his ex-wife.

"and this is my... well, he's uh, my boyfriend actually. my boyfriend melmord."

melm is all smiles as he leans in and takes joy's hand. "please, just call me mel."

and then of course at the end of a long night, joy and her fiance leave, and john and melm pat each other on the back for a job well done. they really gave it their all, put on a convincing performance full of long embraces and doting glances and romantic touches. neither of them really want to talk about how easily it came to them, and how unwilling they both are to bring it to an end.

"well, uhh... good night, then." john chuckles. "darling."

"yeah, haha, sleep good, uh... sugarbear."

they laugh. they're standing in the hall laughing. they should really move apart from each other and go to their respective rooms if they're going to sleep, but they're not moving. and they're still laughing. and now melmord is touching john's shirt, fingering a button, and john has a hand on melm's hip...

"maybe," melm says quietly, "we can just pretend for, like... a little longer?"

#thank you jean!!!!#these are turning out so long omg hahaha #my writing #okay NOW i sleep fdgdgd

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dalamjisung · 4 years

Text

team wang ❃ jackson wang

word count: 1899

genre: slice of life, fluff, team wang!jackson

member: jackson x reader

description: this is it– all he’s ever wanted: jackson is his own boss now. Team Wang will now have his undivided attention and, well, you couldn’t be prouder. You’ve always been Team Wang, anyways.

“Delivery,” A voice calls through the building’s intercom, and you try to remember of any recent purchase made from Amazon, but you just can’t.

“Whom for?” You ask, and if Jackson was here, he’d be proud. He always told you to be more aware of security, considering the amount of ill intent directed towards public figures like him. You’d always roll your eyes whenever he lectured you about opening the door for the food delivery man without asking for an identification from the other person, but you’d let it go whenever he hugged you and mumbled in your ear, I just want you to be safe.

“Uh… Jackson Wang?” The man responds. “From Team Wang…?”

The uncertainty in the man’s voice is enough to make you frown, but you tell him to wait downstairs, that you’ll go get the parcels yourself. Putting your shoes on, you go down, passing through Mr. Min, the building’s security guard.

“Can you sign here, ma’am?” The delivery man asks, giving you an electronic pad. You do as instructed and he starts giving you the many boxes piled behind him.

“Wait… is that all for Jackson Wang?” You gasp, looking behind to wave the security guard over. “I might need some help, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Ms. Y/L/N,” Mr. Min smiles and both of you work on taking all twelve large boxes to your apartment. After you’re done, you send him back to his post with a ‘thank you’ sandwich and cup of coffee; he’s always been incredibly helpful and kind to you, during the years that you and Jackson had been together, and you can’t help but see Mr. Min as a friend. He’s seen you at your best and at your worst, and if not for his comforting words, sometimes you don’t know what would’ve happened to you after a fight with Jackson, or after a particular hard day at work. He’s always spared you a few words of wisdom, a few moments of hope, and he’s never let you walk out the door with unresolved issues.

“Ah, Seun-ie,” You tut under your breath, looking at the three piles of boxes. “Why did–“

“I’m home!” His melodic voice echoes in the apartment and you chuckle at his clear excitement. “Is it here? Did it arrive? Y/N, did something arrive for me today?”

“Uh,” You turn around to face your fiancee. “I’d say so, yes.”

His eyes shine with contained happiness and he drops his bag by the entrance, running to the many boxes to inspect all of them.

“Babe can you get me a knife?”

You roll your eyes, walking to the kitchen and coming back with scissors instead. You didn’t want him to get lost in his packages and end up hurting himself.

“Here you go, babe,” You help him move the boxes to the living room, where together you cut through all the cardboard. As you two work, he tells you about his day at the studio, about the songs he’s producing, about all the content he’s posting on social media– and you soak it all in, loving the way he rambles on and on about all that he did, all that he couldn’t do before. Because of the restrictions of his old agency, Jackson always talked about all the things he wanted to do, but rarely ever about the things he did. It’s been a week now, and ever since their last performance under their past contract, Jackson’s been much more open to trying out all of the things he talked about before. I’m my own boss now, baby, he’d giggle at random time. I can do what I want.

“Jacks,” You call, looking at him while resting your chin on your hand, a small side adorning your face.

“Yes, my love?” He looks at you from behind a large box, eyes wide and round.

“I’m proud of you,” You tell him, and he blushes. “Really proud of you.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” He mutters, looking down at the deliveries. “It means a lot coming form you…”

“Well, then you should believe it,” You get up and kiss his cheek on the way back to the kitchen, making some coffee for both of you. “Want milk or not?”

“No, thank you!”

Routine feels like this– this normalcy that you sense from having Jackson in the living room, humming random tunes that are bound to become singles, while you make some coffee; the same normalcy you felt this morning, when he woke you up with breakfast in bed, and the same normalcy you’ll feel tonight, when you both scroll through twitter together, like you’ve done most nights, enjoying the fact that now Bambam has nothing better to do than roast people publicly.

“Y/N, love, come here!”

“Just a second!” You put his coffee in his favorite lime green mug, and, taking your own mug, you waddle back to the living room. “Yes, honey?”

According to the other guys, you and Jackson had always been the most lovey-dovey couple, abusing pet names like there is no tomorrow, but you to always laugh it off, enjoying the little world you create every time he calls you a different lovely nickname.

“Can you try this on for me?” He holds a black velvet puffer jacket and throws it to you. “It’s a size up than your usual, but I think you’ll look fire with an oversized one.”

His enthusiasm is palpable and when you take off your hoodie to try on the jacket, you hear him giggling.

“Are you filming me?” You question once you notice the phone in his hands.

“Of course I’m filming you,” Jackson scoffs as if you had asked the most obvious question in the world. “You look hot wearing Team Wang design.”

You only realize you are wearing Team Wang from head to toe once he points out; you have one of their sweatpants that you hastily put on this morning to finish some work due in the afternoon, and underneath the hoodie, also belonging to your beloved’s company, you had one of their white t-shirts.

“Oh my god,” You gasp. “I feel so expensive.”

“Wha–“

“I could never afford this,” You mumble under your breath, laughing at his reaction.

“Just try the jacket on,” He grumbles, and when you finally do what he says, the excitement is back. Jackson gets into business mode and soon you are being prepped for a photoshoot by your fiancee. He positions you near the window, and, using the sunlight in his favor, gives you one of the new collection’s cap. Now you truly are Team Wang from head to toe, and he snaps picture after picture, directing you to the best of his abilities. You laugh at the faces he makes, and you enjoy the attention, still not being used to receiving so much of Jackson for so long. Usually, he’d been whisked away already, something about a schedule to follow through. But now, as he showers you with compliments, feeling proud of his work, you feel like he is truly happy.

“Let me see, let me see,” You say after he’s done, jumping where he is sitting on the couch looking through the many photos he took. “You’re not going to post that, right?”

His head snaps up at you, and he is quick to put his phone aside and pull you to sit on his lap.

“Why not?” He questions, looking deeply into your eyes. “They came out amazing, baby!”

“Jackson,” You chuckle, loving his playfulness. “You can hire the best models out there to promote and display your creation if you want… you are not posting a picture of me as a model.”

“But you are a model,” He raises the phone for you to see the album he already created for the shoot. “My model.”

“Jackson–“

“No, I think you don’t understand,” He chuckles a bit, looking down at where one of his hands hold one of yours. He is blushing, and you caress his face with the other hand. “You’ve been my model for a long while now, Y/N. On many different aspects of life. The way you think, the way you speak, the way you act– It’s always been a huge influence for me; always pushing me to be a better version of myself. I love you, yes, but more than that, I admire you. You’re my idol, baby.”

You don’t know how to express yourself in words– you think there might be none, as you kiss him senseless. With a permanent smile, you kiss him, the man of your dreams and the man of your reality. The one that always tried to fix everything, even if there is nothing to fix; the man that works so hard to provide only the best for himself and those around him; the man that promised to love you forever. You kiss him the only way you see possible. You kiss him with all you have. Love. Passion. Admiration. It’s all a mess of emotions that you can hope get through to him. He pulls away first, pecking your lips slowly and firmly, and then snuggles into you, pulling you down to lay on the couch, and you almost laugh at how comic you two must look, surrounded by boxes.

You can’t help but notice six boxes left unopened.

“Jacks,” You poke his cheek and he hums. “What’s in those boxes?”

He raises his head to look where you are pointing.

“Ah,” He smiles and wiggles his brows. “Those are special treats for the guys. I always sent them previews, ever since I started Team Wang… I don’t see why not keep tradition. I also added some things for their girls, now that they can publicly wear them.”

“That’s really nice of you, my love,” You smile at him, hugging him tighter. “I’m sure they’ll love it. They always comment on it whenever I wear Team Wang.”

“Do you think they’ll like it?” He suddenly asks, a bit nervous. “I designed the bucket hat thinking of Jaebeom hyung, and I think Bam will really enjoy the velvet vest but–“

You shut him up with a kiss, straddling his waist. When you pull away, you can see the anxiety in his face; with Jackson, it’s always in the eyes– all his fears, all his accomplishments, all his feelings. You can read him like a book and you think it’s adorable how much he still dories about his group’s– his family’s– opinion of his endeavors, even though he proved himself again and again that no matter what, GOT7 will always walk beside him, supporting him during everything.

“I think they will absolutely love it,” You scoff, hands holding his face in place to look straight into his surprised eyes. “You know they’ll absolutely love it.”

He nods.

“And do you know why?”

He nods once again.

“Why?” You ask, wanting to hear if from his mouth.

“Because they love me,” He smiles, hands moving up and down on your thighs. “And because I love them, too.”

“And?”

“And because they’re proud of me,” Jackson’s voice grows stronger and more confident with each word that leaves his mouth. “And because I’m proud of me.”

“That’s right, baby,” You soften at his wide smile. “We’re all proud of you. We’re all Team Wang.”

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

Well... we really are all Team Wang ;) What do you think of this one, my lovelies? I can just imagine Jackson with his cute smile, getting hyped up. If you liked this story, please please please share, comment, like, or anything you feel comfortable doing ❤️ thank you for your endless support, lovelies💕

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passionate-hedgehog · 4 years

Text

Sweatshirt

Summary: Y/n gained more than an office when she was promoted to a main writer for Mythical Entertainment.But while she’s celebrating the new aspects of her job, her boyfriend seems to be crumbling.

Pairing: Damien Haas x Reader

Word count: 4584

Warnings: None

A/N: When I wrote this, I was really just wanting to write a story about how a hoodie exposed a Damien x Reader relationship and then I added some angst because...entertainment, ya know? But at the time I’m posting this fic, I’ve had gone through almost losing my job because of state health mandates due to COVID. I found out that my restaurant thoroughly respects my work ethic and my schedule will remained unchanged. But working an entire shift unsure if I’ll be returning...or if I’ll see any of my coworkers that I’ve come to know as family ever again? I was able to relate to this a lot more than I thought I would. I’m not downplaying anyone that goes through uncertain things, especially during 2020. But I hope it can help a little bit.

Y/n’s morning had been one for the books. She ran into her boyfriend’s former boss, Ian Hecox, at her favorite coffee shop while wearing a hoodie she DEFINITELY wasn’t meant to be sporting. The item had been a part of an unreleased merch line for SMOSH. They had been planning on announcing it the week after Defy, SMOSH’s parent company, had unfortunately shut down. Select cast and crew had been gifted with the limited stock, and Y/n had discovered it in her boyfriend’s closet just minutes before she ran out the door to get to the coffee shop.

Ian, a man she had yet to be introduced to before that morning, had been polite but concerned about how she had the item in the first place. She wanted to give the simple answer that her boyfriend of four months, Damien Haas, didn’t know she took it from his closet that morning. But Damien being in a relationship hadn’t been general knowledge to many people yet, and she didn’t want to put him in that position. He had been trying to work past his SMOSH days and focusing on future endeavors. She didn’t want to reconnect dots that he had worked so hard to disconnect. After reassuring the man that she did not, in fact, legitimately steal it and that the owner never wore it out in public, she apologized for wearing it and promised to remove it once she got to her destination.

When Y/n made it to work, she was greeted with the two head-writing team members sporting nearly creepy smiles aimed at her. She narrowed her eyes at them and immediately grew suspicious. The writers, Nick and Ellie, pulled her down the hallway towards the various offices and stopped in front of a single closed door. Ellie stood off to the side of the door but grasped at the handle.

“Congrats on your promotion!” She winked and pushed the door open, letting Y/n look thoroughly into the room.

“Is this...do I have my own… what?!” Y/n looked between Ellie and the room. “What??”

“Rhett and Link, and the rest of us, agreed that since you’ve been promoted to a main writer position AND you’ve been handling a lot of other projects that go beyond your job description, you should have the space fitting for it. They have a new investment that you’ll be working with.” Ellie moved to stand by her fellow head writer, Nick.

“Trust us. You’ll need this space. You’re about to have your hands full.” Was all Nick supplied, as cryptic as it was. “There’s a meeting in 20 minutes. You won’t have to worry about being late now that you’re so close to the main offices. See you in a few!”

The duo walked away and left Y/n to take in what happened entirely.

“My own office?” She wondered as she finally took her first steps into her own space. There was a desk, a chair, the same kind of desktop that is used in the other offices, and room for her personal touch. She had dreamt of her own office, and she finally had it. Y/n took out her phone and noted she had enough time to grab her meeting materials from her bag, and decided to make it to the meeting early.

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

The meeting had left the writer confused. Mythical had purchased SMOSH, her boyfriend’s former employer. It was a happy thing. She knew it was a happy thing. Damien had walked her down memory lane when Defy had shut down, and he found himself at home more than he wanted to be. It had been therapeutic for him. But he eventually decided to leave those memories there in the past. And now she was hit with the dilemma of whether or not she should tell him. Would she even be allowed to tell him?

“Hey, Babe!” Damien’s voice called from the doorway.

Y/n looked up from her desktop, all inner turmoil disappearing when she saw her boyfriend’s smiling face. “Hey! How’d you find me?”

“Nick walked me down here.” The brunette let himself into the office and sat in the chair across from his girlfriend. “This is so cool. You didn’t tell me you were getting an office. We could have gone to Target and grabbed some cute things.”

“It was a surprise. I didn’t know about it until I got here this morning. Oh! Speaking of!” The woman grabbed her bag and shot an apologetic look. “I might have made a bad decision that I definitely need to apologize for.”

Damien cocked his head in confusion, similar to that of a puppy.

Y/n pulled out the black and blue hoodie from her bag and passed it over to her boyfriend. “I took this on my way out. I was in a hurry and didn’t quite look to see what it was I had put on. Eventually, I realized what I was wearing in public, and I put it in my bag. I’m sorry, Babe.”

Damien’s eyes met the fabric, and he shrugged. “Eh, it’s fine. You can just keep it, actually. I already have so many hoodies and shirts from...you can just have itz. I bet it looks better on you anyway. I don’t need it.”

Y/n copied Damien’s confused look from earlier. “Dames, this is your hoodie. YOUR hoodie. You designed this, and it’s your only copy of it. I can’t take it, Babe. How about I throw it in the wash when we get home, and I’ll just put it back where I got it from?”

Damien shook his head. “No, that’s okay. Just...consider it a gift, I guess. I don’t need it. Take it.”

“Dames-.” Y/n began.

“I think I’ll meet you in the car. I have some calls to make for a few auditions. Take your time, Y/n.” Damien got up from his seat, immediately breaking eye-contact with his girlfriend.

After the voice-over actor left the office, Y/n let out a sigh and leaned as far back in her chair as she could, her head dangling off the headrest. She debated with herself for a few moments on whether they should talk out what was definitely him pushing unresolved feelings into a box. She decided that there was enough excitement for that day, proceeded to pack her things, and made her way to her boyfriend’s car.

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

A few weeks later, Y/n found herself in a private meeting with her bosses Rhett and Link. After the news that Mythical had purchased SMOSH, Y/n had found out that she would work as a main writer for Mythical and that she would also help out with minimal production work at SMOSH while they built their team back up. The SMOSH gig wouldn’t be long-term, but it was definitely something different than what she knew. The writer had assisted with some production work on GMM during her career, so the production aspect itself wasn’t unfamiliar to her. Working for two different channels? That would be tricky.

It was not as tricky as treading the waters with Damien once he finally found out that SMOSH was coming back to life, which would be difficult since Y/n would be the liaison between SMOSH and Mythical for the foreseeable future. She would be working with Ian, going to board meetings, working in the SMOSH half of the building, and helping create a staff for SMOSH. Y/n was always up for a challenge, a chance to expand her horizons in her career. She just hoped that it wouldn’t damage the relationship she worked hard to build with her partner.

“Tomorrow is your meeting with Ian. We’ll give you the black card to charge the lunch to. He didn’t have an exact number of how many people would be showing up, but it should be fine.” Rhett handed the credit card to her. “The cafe you picked didn’t seem too pricey, so we’re not worried. Just make sure not to lose the card.”

Link leaned forward in the chair he was occupying, folding his arms on to the desk in front of him. “Have you been in contact with him yet? Introduce yourself and all of that?”

“Uh…” Y/n glossed over the fact that she had, in fact, already met Ian in person almost a month ago on accident. “Yeah...We already discussed a little bit about tomorrow. Going over what he’ll be telling his team and things of that sort. He mentioned that he had been keeping it under wraps from them. But I’m ready for it. I can’t imagine that happening to Mythical. I’d be devastated. I’m very thankful that you guys run your own ship.”

Rhett gave a shrug and a short “Eh, we try.” that caused Link to give a quick laugh.

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

The morning of the meeting with Ian felt...off... to Y/n. When she woke up, Damien had already vacated the bed. She thought that maybe he had decided to go to the meeting that he had no idea she would be at. Perhaps she could subtly slip it in that she’d be there and they could take the same car. It took her a few minutes of searching the apartment to realize that her partner wasn’t even home. She didn’t know where he was. She only hoped that he would be at the cafe later. Y/n shook it off and began to get ready. Today was going to be nerve-wracking enough without him there.

Y/n made it to the cafe ten minutes before the determined meeting time. She found Ian easily and approached him with her head held high and an incredibly pleasant smile plastered to her face.

“Ian?” She asked as she approached his chair. He turned to her and watched the lightbulb go off in his head. “I’m Y/f/n Y/l/n from Mythical! And now, SMOSH...kinda.”

He stood up and shook her hand. “Hey. Nice to officially meet you! Although, I believe we’ve met before…”

Y/n winced and nodded, taking a seat across from him. There were a handful of empty chairs scattered around the table. She didn’t count them but was glad that the lunch meeting had already been approved by her bosses to be charged on the black card.

“Before we get started,” Ian began. “I just want to clarify that I haven’t told anyone what this meeting is about, and I’m still not all too sure who will be making it. A lot of things have been up in the air for so long, I’ve had to learn to just go with the flow.”

“Honestly, same.” Y/n replied as the waitress approached them.

A couple of people approached the table and greeted Ian and took seats by him while Y/n chatted with her usual waitress. The newcomers and Ian gave their drink orders before the server walked away.

“Shayne, Court, I’d like to introduce you to Y/n of Mythical Entertainment. Y/n/, Shayne and Courtney are two of SMOSH’s actors. They were hired in 2016.” Ian introduced.

“It’s really nice to meet you two! I spent the last month watching a lot of SMOSH, and you guys crack me UP! It’s almost impossible for me not to laugh at a video with either of you in it. Or any video, to be honest. Except for the Dominos mukbang. I got a little uncomfortable at the end of that one.” Y/n winced at the end of her introduction.

The three conversed as more people showed up, Keith showing up with Noah and Olivia. Matt Raub could be heard arguing good-naturedly with Sarah Whittle down the sidewalk as they approached. Lastly, Lasercorn and Mari appeared separately but arriving at about the same time. All of the chairs around the table were full except for the one to Y/n’s left. She glanced at it longlingly before giving her full attention to Ian.

“So! Should we order and then talk about why we’re here while we wait for the food?” Y/n suggested.

Ian nodded in agreement, and Y/n made eye contact with their server, pulling her over to the group. Everyone gave their order to the waitress before Y/n gave her own and then proceeded to give the order for Damien, in hopes that he would show up in the end.

“But you can put that last one on our personal tab. I might just end up taking it home. Thanks, Clementine.” Y/n called as the waitress walked away.

Y/n was about to officially start the meeting when her phone went off loudly. She pulled it out of her pocket to send it to voicemail when she saw that it was Damien’s name. “I’m so sorry. I actually need to take this really quickly. Continue your conversations.”

Y/n rose from her seat and walked off a few paces. She answered her call, hoping it would be her boyfriend telling her that he had a meeting he would be late for (the one she was at) and that he wouldn’t be able to pick up lunch that day. What it ended up being, though, was Y/n trying to subtly convince Damien to go to the meeting she knew he had (the same one she was at, but he still didn’t know that part) and failing miserably.

“You know where I am with that, Y/n. I don’t know why you’re pushing it. It was a good few years, but it’s done! I need to figure out what’s next for me. Dwelling on the past isn’t going to fix it.”

Y/n took a deep breath. “Have you even talked to anyone about this meeting? Do you even know what it’s about? Maybe something amazing and wonderful will come out of it!! You won’t know unless you try! And I know you’re building on your VO work, but SMOSH is already here and waiting for you. LITERALLY. WAITING.”

Damien grew quiet on the other end of the line, and Y/n realized she said the wrong thing. “What are you talking about. Y/n? What do you mean by ‘literally waiting’? How would you know anything about SMOSH’s meeting?”

“I just..I don’t...Damien. Please. Coming to this meeting could be what you need, right now.”

“You said coming instead of going. Why would you use ‘coming’ instead of ‘going’?”

“Oh my GOD, can you please stop analyzing what I’m saying for five fucking minutes and just listen to the point I’m trying to make here?!” Y/n noticed she was yelling and apologized before talking quieter and calmer. “Please, I’m begging you. Come to this meeting. They need you here. They’re your family.”

“Family wouldn’t keep info, like this meeting, a secret. Right?”

That caused Y/n to pause. “They...they didn’t tell you about the meeting?”

“They definitely told me. You didn’t, though.”

Y/n realized that she was losing grip with the conversation. “No, wait-Damien, I didn’t-”

“I’ll talk to you later, Y/n. Or not. Who knows, am I right?” Damien ended the call with a beep audible from Y/n’s end.

After taking a few deep breaths and clearing her eyes from any of the tears built up from frustration and legitimate sadness, she collected herself and returned to the table. When she sat down, she noticed all eyes were on her.

“What did Damien have to say?” Ian asked with a sad smile that told her he already knew the answer.

“He uh...he can’t make it. Something came up.” Y/n cleared her throat and took a sip of her diet coke. “Any chance we can just completely ignore what just happened?”

“How do you know, Damien?” The question came from someone on her left.

“I guess not,” She took a bigger sip of her drink. “Damien and I...have been seeing each other. For a few months now.”

The surprised reactions that spread around the whole table proved to Y/n that her boyfriend really didn’t tell anyone about their relationship, including Shayne, whom he called his best friend. Y/n couldn’t imagine not telling someone that important about a relationship that’s lasted as long as it had. But after what went down over the phone, the breaking of trust and the arguing, she thought maybe there was good reason for it. In an attempt to not dwell on what happened, Y/n called on Ian to continue the meeting.

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

Instead of going to her own apartment after the meeting with SMOSH, Y/n decided to take Damien his food in hopes of a peace offering and have a chance to talk everything out. She pulled into the visitor parking of the apartments and took a second to collect herself. She knew her partner was hurting. The signs of his anxiety and personal, private compulsions were showing through when he thought she couldn’t see. She knew he was struggling, but all she wanted to do was fix it. But how? Would he even let her into the apartment?

She knocked on his door and waited for an answer. She knocked again a few minutes later, before taking out her key. Naturally, she’d respect his want for space, but at that moment, she didn’t have it in her. She made her way into the apartment and eventually found him laid out against his headboard, playing his Switch on his bed. He didn’t look up when she walked in or when she sat on the bed.

“I uh...I brought you your order from the cafe. Do you want it now, or should I put it in the fridge?” She asked gently from her spot at his feet.

He clicked the lock button and put the handheld device down. Looking at the bag in his girlfriend’s hands, he gestured for her to hand it to him. She leaned over to give it to him, and he put the paper bag next to his Switch. Without speaking, he nodded his head towards the door, and Y/n picked up his hint.

“Right. You probably don’t want me here right now...uh..”She scratched at her neck, disappointed in herself for thinking that he’d want anything to do with her at the moment. “I’ll just...I gotta grab some of my things from the bathroom first. I want to make sure I give you all the space you need.”

Y/n made to get off the bed when Damien cleared his throat. “No, Y/n. I was stretching my neck. You don’t have to leave.”

The writer turned to face him, pushing what she hoped was a convincing smile on her face. “It’s ok! Really! You deserve some space after what happened. I completely lied to you about today, and that’s gotta feel like trash. I can let you eat in peace for once.”

“Please don’t.” He met her eyes, and she saw sadness there. “I can wait to eat. I just...I really want you to stay. Please?”

She nodded and pulled herself up the bed to lean against the headboard next to him. “Do you want to talk about it? I understand if you don’t. And it’s completely reasonable not to want to tell me about it at all. I am sorry, Dames. I didn’t know how to tell you, so I thought maybe it would go smoothly if you just saw me at the meeting. I figured it’d be easier handling the topic of ‘us,’ too. Which...was weird to do with or without you.”

“Yeah. Shayne had questions for me. But I’m not upset that you told them. I can’t imagine the pressure that put you under. It couldn’t have been easy trying to get around it in the first place.” Damien kissed the top of her head.

Y/n looked him in the eyes and gave a sad smile. “I’m worried about you. You tell me you’re okay and that you’re moving on, but...to me, it doesn’t look like it. To someone on the outside, maybe. But I’ve been with you since before Defy shut down. You haven’t processed it or grieved it. You barely talk to your best friend. It shows a lot that you hadn’t told him about me. Like...yeah, you’re a private person. But you don’t usually hide things from Shayne.”

The actor nodded along with her words. “Yeah, I...I don’t know how to...like I just…”

Y/n noticed he was struggling and held his hand, quietly waiting for him to continue.

“Defy shutting down and SMOSH limiting everything it was doing was hard. When we were as happy as we could get working for Defy, I never thought about ‘what’s after this?’ I didn’t think I’d have to worry about it. It all seemed to be going so well...So when it came, the loss of it all...that’s what happened. All of it was lost. Everything I did, all of the moments, the time...It felt like two years of my pure energy that I was never going to get back. I put everything I am into my life at SMOSH, and it felt like it didn’t matter in the end. So, I moved forward as fast and as hard as I could to outrun the pain I knew was coming. Unfortunately… the running didn’t work, and the pain still came. And I feel like I lost connections with people most important to me along the way.”

“No, Damien… you didn’t lose those connections. Trust me. They miss you. They need you in their lives. Whether it’s through SMOSH or just inviting them over for pizza and video games. Baby, they still love you. I promise.” Y/n sat up straighter and pulled her legs underneath her, letting both knew caps lay against Damien’s outstretched legs. “I can’t give any advice towards the running away from what happened because we both know I’m a little escape artist when conflict arises. But I think this conversation right here is a great way to begin to work through it. But I think it would work better if you talked it through with your best friend that went through the same thing.”

Damien pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. “Hmm...maybe. And you’re not that much of an escape artist anymore. You forced your way into my apartment and invited yourself on to my bed. We could have had a huge fight, but you went through with it anyway.”

Y/n looked up at him with her head still on his chest. “Because I love you. And I don’t want you to be sad anymore…”

Damien leaned down and kissed her, gently slipping his hands under her shirt before he pulled away. “You are more than I’ll ever deserve. Thank you for making sure I work out the things that bother me and affect me.”

“I’ll say it again.” She accentuated each of her following words with a poke to his torso. “I. Love. You. Dumb dumb.”

He grabbed her hand and guided her, so she was straddling his lap. “That hoodie you took from me last month, I didn’t get to see you in it. Can I get a peak?”

“Uh...sure? Are you sure, though? You seemed pretty passionate about not ever seeing it again.” Y/n rested her hands at his sides, softly running her thumbs over his shirt as if to comfort him.

“I think...I just didn’t want to think about my last few good memories with the company and everything. But I don’t want to run from it anymore.”

Y/n’s smile lit up her whole face. “Yeah? Then yeah, I can go put it on.”

“But could I convince you to wear it with nothing else on?”

#damien haas x reader #damien haas #smosh fanfiction #just me self-projecting my problems on to damien

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anightflower · 4 years

Text

Come and Find Me Chapter 4: The Andrew Curtis Case

Guys I am so sorry this took so long. On top of school kicking my ass, I had to rewrite and reedit this chapter several times until I got to one that I deemed worthy. I am going to try and post Chapter Five early for you guys if I can.

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Rape, Abuse

Masterlist

Spencer glanced around the room at all the police officers assembled. He cleared his throat.

“The Unsub is a white male in his late 20s to mid-30s. He is a man with an average build and a friendly face, someone who women would not pose as a threat.”

“Since there were no signs of forced entry, we believe he’s posing as someone who women would let into their house. Classic cases of this include maintenance men there to check up on things, someone who needs help after their car broke down, or a similar case like that.” Emily explained. “This is a man who fakes confidence, but in reality views himself as inadequate in some way, he knows he can’t fight off another man, so he chooses women who live alone and are essentially defenseless.”

“Yet, he hates that they are successful enough to support themselves or that they have any sort of power.” Morgan chimed in.

“He clearly was cheated on or had some sort of marital issue that caused him to spiral into this spree. He is a sexual sadist projecting his partner onto the women he attacks, that’s why he chokes them, watching the life drain from their eyes sparks something in him and gives him a sense of power. That is also why he rapes his victims, he loves the idea that he is all powerful and they are helpless.” Hotch explained.

Spencer swallowed, “Comparing his last four victims it seems his type is 20-30 year old females with (Y/C/H) and (Y/C/E).”

Which coincidentally looks like the love of my life. Spencer thought, repressing a shudder.

________________________________________________________________

Spencer starred in shock at the scene around him. He was just finishing up the geographical profile, when they had received a call about yet another body.

Her empty bulking eyes stared up at the ceiling, her body was beaten, cut, and bruised.

“Strangulation marks on her neck, multiple stab wounds and injuries, this looks like our unsub.” Emily resisted the urge to shudder.

“Man, whoever cheated on this guy, must have really broken him.” Morgan mused, looking around at the bloody scribblings on the wall.

Spencer knew that if they tested the blood on the wall, it would match the victims. He looked at the frames on the wall, trying to ignore the blood that seemed to coat everything. The victim had her diploma hung up and multiple pictures of her smiling with family or friends. Spencer stared hard at the name on the diploma; Adria Winston.

It scared Spencer how easily he could see you in this woman’s place. Injured, dying, pleading for him, for anyone to save you-

“Reid. Reid, are you alright?” Morgan clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder, drawing him back to the present.

Spencer shook himself out of his dazed state. “Yeah, uh I just need to step out for a second.” He said, pushing past Morgan and making his way outside Adria’s house. He pulled out his phone and dialed your number, it was late, so you would most likely be asleep, but-

You picked up on the third ring. “Hi baby, are you alright?” Spencer bit back a smile at the sleepiness in your voice.

“Not really, but I just really needed to hear your voice. How is Ohio?” Spencer asked, trying to distract himself from what he just saw. You could tell, but you played along with it.

“Not too bad, whoever designed the Google lounge has nothing on me.” You joked.

“Well, we already knew that.” Spencer smiled.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe some of the cool stuff I found, I’m telling you if the employees complain about these amazing comfy chairs I got for their break room, I am totally coming back and stealing all 22 of them for my apartment.” You said enthusiastically. “They're perfect for reading in Spence, I’m telling you, you would love them.”

Spencer let out a little laugh, “I’m sure they are. We will have to see if we can find some, but I don’t think 22 will fit in either of our apartments.”

“I suppose you’re right” You sighed dramatically, but then took a more serious tone of voice. “Are you alright baby?”

Spencer’s chest tightened at your worried tone of voice. “There’s a sick selfish part of me that is so glad that you aren’t here (Y/N). All of these girls look so much like you-” Spencer paused, swallowing back tears. “I just am so glad you are safe, I don’t think I could focus as well on this case if I knew you could possibly be in danger.”

“Aw Spencer, I am so sorry baby. You aren’t sick or selfish for wanting me to be safe, everyone focuses on the safety of those they love, it’s only human. I know you are going to catch this guy, you are the most brilliant man and agent I have ever met. Just don’t tell your team I said that, I don’t want a bad reputation before they even meet me.” You teased, trying to lighten his dark mood.

Spencer let out a small laugh and sniffled. “Trust me the team is going to love you. We will have to figure out when you can meet them, but I definitely want to wait until things settle down a bit here.”

There was silence on your end for a second. “Listen Spence, I can stay here a bit longer if it will help you focus, but when I come home I am taking self-defense classes and such. I want you to have a sane mind knowing that your girlfriend actually can handle herself. I honestly think it will help me keep sane too, after hearing everything about this case.”

Spencer heart skipped a beat, as much as he wanted you safe and sound, he also needed to hold you in his arms to keep his sanity. But ultimately you were the one who should lead your life, not Spencer. “I appreciate you considering me, but I want the ultimate decision to be made by you Princess, I trust your judgement and I don’t want you living your life based on my fear.”

You breath caught in your throat at the sentiment. “I love you Spencer Reid.”

Spencer could have sworn his heart stopped. The two of you hadn’t said I love you yet. Part of him wished it was in person, but just hearing you say it, meant the world to him. “I love you more (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

So help him god, Spencer would catch whoever this unsub was and put him away, so you could come home to a safer city.

________________________________________________________________

“You know what strikes me as funny?” Emily asked, looking at the crime scene photos.

The room was silent, waiting to hear what she had to say.

“Each of these unsubs reported strange gifts and letters being sent to their home. The police had thought it was nothing, but now I am thinking that maybe this could be a connection. I mean think about it, didn’t you guys notice that each victim received a gift box wrapped the exact same way?”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah they had the white box with the red bow-”

Spencer chimed in, “Red typically symbolizes love and infatuation, but in this case it was the unsub’s warning, red meant war or violence was about to come upon this victim.”

“Reid and JJ I want you to talk to the officers and get the reports these women filed for harassment, I think we are missing a connection.” Hotch ordered.

An hour or so later they had that connection.

“All of the victims received their gifts from a delivery service called ‘Special Delivery.’” JJ explained to everyone.

“Well it seems we have to pay them a visit.” Hotch said.

________________________________________________________________

Special Delivery was a small Ma and Pa store, located just a couple blocks from Ava’s coffee shop. Spencer debated on stopping in to check in with her and maybe grab the team coffee.

Spencer had quickly taken a liking to Ava, not only because he had called him your “sexy superhero boyfriend,” but because she was a reliable friend to you, one who always managed to bring a smile to your face. She reminded Spencer of a more wild Emily, in the best way possible.

Emily stopped outside the storefront window, glancing at the display of chocolates, gift baskets, and jewelry. “Why is it always the cute small places that get ruined? Can’t it be one of those big corporate offices that fuck over their employees instead?”

Spencer huffed a laugh.

As they entered the store, the bell let out a delicate twinkle. Causing a silver-streaked brunette to pop out from the back of the store. Her round face held a warm smile as she approached them.

“Hello dears! What can I do for you?” She asked as she excitedly clasped her hands together.

“Hello Mrs. Ellison, my name is SSA Prentiss and this is Dr. Reid, we had a few questions for you.” Emily said gently, flashing her badge to the woman.

The woman's smile dimmed a bit, “Oh, uh of course, is everything alright?”

“Mrs. Ellison I am sure you’ve heard of the recent tragedies-” Emily began,

“Oh yes, I’ve been keeping up with the news, it’s just dreadful that something so horrible could happen so close to home. You see these things in movies or in other places, but you just never expect them to happen right near you.” Mrs. Ellison said sorrowfully, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Mrs. Ellison, I am afraid everyone of these victims received several deliveries from your shop. Each was wrapped exactly the same, white box, red bow, does this ring any bells for you?” Spencer asked, cutting to the chase.

“Well dear, it is Valentine season, red, pink, and white are the typical go to colors.” She shrugged.

“Do you have any regulars? He would have each gift he bought wrapped the exact same way? He would seem friendly, but would be on the quieter side?” Emily asked, attempting to prod the older woman’s memory.

“I’m afraid none of that is ringing any bells dear, I am so sorry.” Mrs. Ellison said apologetically.

“Do you have any other employees? Or do you run this place all by yourself?” Spencer asked.

Mrs. Ellison, let out a small laugh, “Oh goodness me, no. I get so many orders, I could never do it by myself. I previously had three employees, Jess, Remy, and Andrew, but I had to fire Andrew when I found him stealing from our stock. It was a shame too, he was a hardworking boy, but I’m afraid he just fell apart after his wife left him.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a quick glance. “Do you happen to know why his wife left him?” Spencer asked, his heart picking up speed.

“Oh it's not my business to share-” Mrs. Ellison hesitated.

“Please Mrs. Ellison, this could be crucial information.” Emily urged her.

Mrs. Ellison let out a sigh. “That horrible girl cheated on him. I just couldn’t understand it either, Drew was such a doting gentleman to her, it simply didn’t make sense.”

“Do you still have his contact information? His address?”

“Why of course, but you couldn’t possibly think he has anything to do with this-” Mrs. Ellison began, making her way to behind the counter to grab a binder. She looked up worried when Spencer and Emily didn’t answer right away. “Do you?” She urged.

“It’s quite possible he had nothing to do with it, we just need to follow through with every angle.” Emily quickly explained.

“Of course.” Mrs. Ellison said, but her hands slightly shook as she opened up her binder to get Andrew’s address.

________________________________________________________________

“Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, open up.” Hotch hollered from outside the door. There was no response. Hotch looked to his team to make sure they were ready, then kicked in the door.

As the team checked different rooms, several calls of “Clear!” echoed throughout the house. Curtis was not there.

Morgan made his way to the basement and swallowed back a gag. “Hotch! You better come see this.”

Guns at the ready, Spencer, Hotch, Rossi, and Emily, made their way down to Morgan.

“What the hell.” Emily huffed as they all beheld the horrific sight before them.

It was a girl, for sure. She had the same mutilated marks as far as they could tell, but her body was decently decayed.

“He’s displaying her like a trophy.” Spencer observed. “He props her up naked and makes sure her wounds are fully on display to remind him what he did.”

“There’s more trophies over here.” Rossi said in disgust, gesturing to a shelf full of different valuables.

“He’s sick.” Morgan hissed.

“We need a med team down here to remove a body. As soon as it’s IDed we need to know and alert any next of kin.” Hotch ordered into his earpiece.

Rossi put on a glove and began to go through the other trophies for evidence. “I’ll talk to the victims families and see if any of them recognize these items.”

Morgan dialed up Garcia.

“Speak and be heard, the all-knowing goddess listens.”

“Hey baby girl, I need you to look up any missing person’s reports from around this area. The victim has (y/c/h) and (y/c/e). She fits our victimology to a t, but we need to figure out who she is.”

“I’m on it.” Garcia said.

“And Garcia,” Hotch said, stopping her before she hung up. “I need you to find a license plate for Andrew Curtis. Also check to see if he rents or owns any other property, he’s currently not at his home and it is too close to other buildings for his victims to not be heard.”

“You got it. Talk soon.” She said, hanging up.

About half an hour later Garcia got back to them. “Curtis drives a 2003 silver sedan with the license plate 637-IRT. I also found that he rents a small storage unit that’s a 20 minute drive in a more secluded part of town. I am sending the address to you guys now.”

“Thanks Garcia.” Hotch said. He turned to JJ “I need you to get an APB on Curtis. I want you to warn the public to keep an eye out for him.”

JJ nodded and rushed off with her phone. Hotch looked to the rest of the team. “Everyone else, vests on, we are heading to that storage unit.”

________________________________________________________________

“Fuck Drew, what are we going to do?” The boy asked as he looked at the screen projecting a news report on Andrew Curtis.

“Well, it might be the end for me, little brother, but I have you as my legacy. They don’t have a clue that you are even involved, so I need you to get out of here.”

“No, no, no. I am not going to leave you!” The Boy cried, tears streaming down his face.

Drew huffed a laugh. “Now, now, little bro. It isn’t the time for tears. I’ve taught you everything you need to know. You need to get your girl from that Doctor remember?”

“How am I supposed to do this without you?” The Boy asked, fear filled his voice.

“Your time will come. You have to be a man about this. You have the skills now and you have our little videos to watch. Your own little tutorial to pluck that girl right out of Dr. Reid’s hands. You need to hide those and hide them well. Promise me you won’t fuck up your chance.” Drew growled.

The Boy whimpered and Drew smacked him. “Promise me!” He yelled.

“I promise.” The Boy sobbed, grabbing at his pained cheek.

Drew’s face softened and he gave the boy a smile. “Good, now get out of here legacy and make me proud. I expect to see you on the news someday.” He winked. “You remember our code right?”

The boy nodded.

“Then this isn’t the last time we will speak to each other. Now get the fuck out of here, I already fucked with the security footage, so they won’t even know you were here.” Drew explained, pushing the boy out towards the parking lot.

The Boy’s heart broke as he rushed from his mentor, not only because he knew he would never be able to see Drew in person after this, but because he knew that he would never be able to ruin the 6th victim. The sixth whore that was tied up in the trunk of Drew’s car.

________________________________________________________________

The girl sobs were muffled by her gag. Drew pulled on her hair harder as he dragged her to the storage unit. He knew he didn’t have much time left, so he might as well let every moment count huh?

The girl’s sobs turned into terrified screams as she beheld the bloodied storage room and the various knives and devices within it.

“Shut up you stupid bitch.” He growled in her ear.

The girl whimpered something and Drew ripped away her gag.

“Please.” She begged and Drew simply laughed as he lugged her limp body towards the table in the center of the room.

“Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I have a family who cares about me-” She pleaded.

“Whores don’t have families. Whores have nothing. They just cheat and lie and move onto the next guy. Huh Madelyn?” He growled as he threw her up onto the table.

“My name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily-” The girl sobbed.

“Enough of your lies Madelyn. You stupid slut. You couldn’t stay loyal could you?” Drew snarled, hitting the girl’s head hard against the table.

She sobbed harder. “My name is Emily, my name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily.” She babbled.

“SHUT UP.” He said, hitting her again.

Suddenly a shout rose up from outside the storage unit door. “Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, come out with your hands raised.”

The smile that crept across Drew’s face was wicked. He grabbed a knife and pulled Emily against him. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” He whispered in her ear.

“Andrew Curtis, this is your last warning. We will come in armed and ready.” Hotch’s voice shouted again.

Drew remained where he was, the sick smile on his face, as tears streamed down Emily’s face.

When the door burst open and several agents poured in, he did not flinch or cower away.

“Drop the weapon.” Hotch boomed, his voice echoing in the space.

“Now, now, now, where would the fun be in that?” Drew mocked.

“Put down the weapon, Curtis and let the girl go.” Rossi ordered.

Drew’s eyes looked past all of them and fell on Spencer, he bit back a smile.

“Come any closer and I’ll slice her throat.” Drew threatened, pressing the knife harder to Emily’s throat, a few drops of crimson blossomed and crept down her neck.

“If you don’t let Miss Bloise go, then we will be forced to take action Mr. Curtis.” Rossi explained.

Drew’s hand shook, god he wanted them to come at him, but then he thought of his mentee, how lost he would be without him.

He lowered the knife and let the girl go. She ran towards one of the agents, tears mixing with the blood that ran down her neck. JJ wrapped an arm around the girl and guided her out.

Morgan rushed to Curtis, pinning him down against the floor and putting cuffs around his wrists.

Though they had caught him, Hotch felt uneasy. Curtis had given in too quickly. The greasy smile across Curtis’s face as Morgan led him away only heightened his suspicions.

________________________________________________________________

The team sat outside the interrogation room, watching as Hotch tried to get a rise out of Andrew Curtis. He and JJ had gone in; Hotch to be the intimidator, JJ to be the trigger as she looked a bit similar to the victims. So far the man had just sat in the chair, his arms crossed, silent and smirking. It had been almost an hour and they had gotten nothing out of him.

Spencer felt as though Curtis could see him through the two-way mirror.

“You know Agent,” Curtis began. “I know you’re trying to be the big bad wolf, but it’s not going to work, I’ve dealt with worse than you.”

Morgan looked about ready to kick in the door and beat the confession out of Andrew.

“Send me in, I’ll get an answer out of him” Morgan growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Unfortunately, the confession won’t stand up in court if they found out you beat the shit out of Curtis to get it” Emily smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

“The Court doesn’t have to know” Morgan argued, making Emily scoff.

“Focus kids.” Rossi ordered sternly, but Spencer could tell he was fighting back a small smile.

Hotch and JJ came out of the room. Hotch looked to Spencer, his expression grim. “He wants to talk with you.”

Spencer looked at Hotch confused, “Why me?”

“He’s ‘fascinated by you’” Hotch explained. “I know it’s not ideal and you don’t have to go in their Reid, but-”

“But, we could get the confession out of him. We have the charges for Miss Bloise, but we want to pin him for the other girls he attacked. I understand and I will do it.” Spencer said.

“I’ll stick with you Spence” JJ reassured, putting a hand on his arm. “You won’t be alone.”

Spencer nodded, sending a grateful look JJ’s way as they made their way into the interrogation room.

“Ah the elusive doctor. So glad you could join us.” Drew purred.

Spencer said nothing as he moved to sit down across from Curtis.

“-your wife left you Mr. Curtis, is that correct?” JJ asked.

“Please doll, a pretty thing like you can call me Drew” Drew said, looking JJ up and down.

Spencer’s fists clenched in anger as he felt JJ tense next to him.

“The file says she left you after she cheated on you. Did you have medical issues Mr. Curtis?” Reid asked, drawing Curtis’s attention to him. “Did you struggle to please your own wife?”

Curtis growled. “That stupid whore has nothing to do with this.”

“Ah so you couldn’t and when she left you for a man that could, you projected your anger for her onto these women. You were angry at them for being confident and independent, much like your wife who knew what she wanted.” Spencer said, sitting back in his chair with a faint smirk.

“These women were nothing but whores, willing to let men in like me. They wanted someone so badly they let a stranger into their house.” Curtis hissed.

“Mr. Curtis, you were a delivery man. They didn’t let you in, you forced your way into their homes didn’t you?”

“If a man needs a glass of water, can’t he let himself in?” Curtis purred. “They turned their backs on a predator and got what was coming to them.”

“Did you attack them in their homes?” JJ asked.

“Only to make them quiet, couldn’t have the neighbors hear them scream.” Curtis laughed and Spencer resisted the urge to choke out the man across from him.

They placed images of all of his supposed victim’s before him. “Do you recognize these women?” JJ asked, her voice harsh and cold.

Curtis looked over all of them, silent for a couple minutes. Spencer’s patience thinned. “Well?”

Curtis pointed to an image of Lila Jennings, the third victim of this case. “She screamed the loudest.” He pointed to another image. “She was a hot piece of ass, it was fun breaking her.”

“Enough.” Spencer hissed.

“In short Doctor, yes I do recognize these women. Every single one of them and no I do not regret a single one.”

Without saying another word, JJ and Spencer got up, taking the files with them. Curtis’s laughter rang out behind them as they shut the door.

________________________________________________________________

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egcdeath · 4 years

Text

a blip in the reader-verse

chapter 6: extra! extra! read all about it

series summary: a minor mistake causes a shift in the multiverse that only you have the capacity to fix.

chapter summary: you kept your friends close, and your enemy even closer.

pairing: politician!andy barber x journalist!reader, steve rogers x reader

word count: 4k

warnings: american politics, fake dating/marriage, angst at the end, heavy codependent behavior at the end

author’s note: i saw @jtargaryen18 post about politician!steve a while ago and must’ve internalized it because this chapter pretty much wrote itself. just a heads up: all of my political knowledge comes from political sitcoms, so sorry in advance if i get some things wrong. another warning is that there are still some very unhealthy relationship dynamics at play here, so promise me you won’t be like reader okay?

previous chapter / series masterlist

Is Andy Barber Really the Best for Our Nation’s Future?

Opinion

by Y/N L/N

Feb 7, 2021, 4:36 PM ET

After tonight’s debate, the question that’s begged is if Andrew Barber is truly fit to run our country. Although he’s clearly a front runner for his party’s nomination, he’s shown time and time again that he may actually be our weakest candidate.

His weaknesses were highlighted during the debate, with his dodged questions and vague answers. At this point in time, it’s hard to tell if Barber has a platform at all.

With Super Tuesday just around the corner, I ask you to reevaluate your support for Barber. Though a charming candidate, it seems that that’s all he has, his charm. His policies are weak, and borderline impossible, and he certainly isn’t the right person to become the most powerful man in the world.

—-

When you became conscious, you were no better than unconscious. Your eyes opened and were immediately met with a harshness from the sun peeking through a window. You shifted away from the brightness, body sinking into a memory foam mattress while your nude form rubbed against similarly soft sheets. You sleepily rubbed your eyes before they flitted throughout the room you were in. Observing an oddly clean, generic looking area, you’d quickly connected the dots that you were in a hotel room. A rather fancy one at that.

Soft breathing came from next to you, and as you turned your head a bit more, you were met with the back of a fluffy and dark haired man. You weren’t completely sure, but judging by your history of finding your way to Steve, you’d assumed that it was some alternate form of your partner.

The man in bed next to you yawned, and haphazardly threw an arm in your direction, before rolling over to greet you, “morning sunshine,” he slurred sleepily.

The beard was a bit of a surprise to you. Though you’d begged and begged your Steve to keep it, he often refused for one reason or another. Seeing the man next to you who (what was now much clearer to you) a version of your boyfriend, was a rather pleasant surprise.

“Morning,” you responded in an equally sleepy manner, ignoring the rhythmic vibration coming from your night stand.

“Mm, you should get that,” he mumbled, pressing a disoriented peck to the side of your head while you reached over to grab your phone, which you could now see was the perpetrator of the vibrations.

“Hello?” you asked into the phone.

“Are you dumb? Or are you fucking stupid?” Aaliyah’s voice scolded through the phone. “Do you know what kind of position you’ve put me in? This is a fucking mess, Y/N. All for some dick? How could you be so careless?! Jesus!”

“What are you talking about?” You glanced over at Andy, and sat up a bit, pulling the crisp blankets over your body in an attempt to retain some form of modesty.

“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re fucking Andy Barber, but you’re writing articles about him like you just watched him kill your dog. You realize that this puts all of us at risk, right? You’re gonna lose your job, I’m gonna lose my job since I decided to edit and publish your shit, and you and I will lose any sort of journalistic integrity we’ve ever had, or will have, for the rest of goddamn time! Seriously, you could’ve had anyone, but Andy Barber? Andrew fucking Barber?” she groaned over the line.

“Uh, I’ll uh, call you back,” you whispered.

“You’re joking right? Are you with him right now?”

“Aaliyah!”

“Oh my god, you’re with him right now. You’re a fucking mess,” she huffed before hanging up.

Why did the universe have to send you off to such a shitshow?

You rolled out of bed, and sulked into the bathroom, desperate to find out what was going on. While sitting on the toilet, you scrolled through the wall of notifications; tweets directed at you, messages from confused friends begging you to call them when you had a chance, and even the occasional concerned email.

You grimaced as you read through each one of them, eventually clicking on the article that many seemed to be referencing, which included a paparazzi photo of you and this Andy Barber character entering a hotel together sometime in the late night to early morning, partnered with an article or two of your own criticizing him. At first, you wondered if he was some sort of celebrity, but what you ultimately found out was much worse.

He was a politician. A senator who was running to be president.

You screamed into your hands, before tossing your phone aside, and starting a warm shower for yourself. Perhaps the shower could help jog your memory a bit.

Stepping into the steamy chamber, and letting the water pelt down onto you did do wonders for you, and it gave you a moment of focus. With both your memories from this universe, along with the information you’d been given through your phone, you were able to piece a few aspects of the universe together.

You were a journalist, a popular one at that, Andy was Steve, but not Steve, and also a presidential candidate. Aaliyah was your editor, and a higher-up at the Times, and you were about to have your ass handed to you over an affair. At least Andy wasn’t married.

Your shower must’ve taken longer than you’d expected, as there was a soft knock on the door after some time.

“Everything okay in there?” a slightly muffled voice asked.

“Yeah. Just peachy. Why aren’t you more worried about this?” you called back.

“I have a good publicist. And campaign manager. I just have a good team,” Andy paused briefly. “When you’re ready, room service is ready.”

----

Over aggressive mouthfuls of fresh fruit and bitter coffee, you conversed with Andy.

“How are we gonna fix this?” You questioned while setting down your fork.

“Well, it’s simple. We just have to find some kind of spin to this whole story. Maybe you were just interviewing me, or getting a soundbite from me.” “Why would you agree to get a soundbite from someone who clearly has it out for you?” You set your fork down, and crossed your arms over your white robe clad chest.

“That’s a good question,” Andy nodded a bit, “a good question for someone else to answer.”

“Why don’t we let your publicist figure out how to play this?”

“I’d say I’m a bit of an expert at this at this point, but I’ll call my team.”

“You do that, I need to assess the damage to my career,” you huffed, moving to sit on the bed so that you could aggressively scroll on your phone in peace.

Andy called someone, and you patiently waited while he chatted with them.

“Okay, Y/N. We can’t leave through the front, so my guy’s gonna pick us up in the garage. We have like, half an hour,” he tossed his phone aside, then maneuvered himself to get in bed with you, setting both hands down on either side of you, and placing a soft kiss on your lips. He slowly began to inch down your body, untying the belt of your robe as he did so, when you interrupted him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Andrew?”

“We have time.” He looked up at you.

“We are not doing this. What do you think got us into this mess in the first place?” you frowned, moving one of his hands so you could slide away from him.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes! Why aren’t you taking this seriously! Do you realize that both of our careers are at stake here? I don’t want to lose my job because I’m having an affair with you. You shouldn’t want to lose a shot at office for a woman you’re not even with.”

“Come on, we’ve been doing this for almost a year, and you only have a problem with it now?”

“Yes! The public had no idea before! They’re going batshit now! And the worst part is that I’m the one taking the most heat,” you sighed, and Andy gave you a frown.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You know I didn’t want this to happen.”

“It’s kinda too late for sorries now.”

——

You stepped out of your suite about five minutes after Andy left, suitcase in tow, blocky sunglasses on your face, and a heathered grey peacoat draped over your shoulders. Although you were stressed from the controversy you’d found yourself in, you couldn’t help but feel the buzz of excitement from having to hide from the paparazzi. At the same time, you felt quite bad for this version of yourself.

When you finally got out to the designated Cadillac, you asked for his driver to roll up the partition, like you’d done a million times before, then looked out of the tinted windows. The ride was pretty awkward, considering you were in no mood to talk to Andy, and Andy felt bad about the issues he’d imposed on you from his own carelessness. He set a cautious hand on top of yours, and though you were agitated, it did brighten your mood the slightest bit.

After what felt like forever, you arrived at his campaign building, and you were ushered into a small, soundproof space, with a large and round pine table in the center of it. Surrounding the table was a very tired looking Aaliyah, and… Tony Stark?

“How’s everyone’s weekend been?” Tony asked, breaking the ice as you and Andy settled into your seats.

“Are we really doing small talk right now?” Aaliyah deadpanned, “sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“Alright, straight to the elephant in the room then. You two were out spotted, big deal, happens all the time to politicians and their mistresses-“

“I’m not his mistress! You know this, Tony,” you huffed.

“Tony knew and not me?” Aaliyah gasped.

“Well-“ you began.

“Save it.”

“It was on a very need-to-know basis,” you muttered.

“Back to what I was saying. I suggest that we don’t address it, unless addressed.”

“I don’t know if you’re dense, or what, but that’s the exact opposite of what we need to do. We have to get on top of this story before the story is that you,” Aaliyah gestured at you, “are packing your shit at the Times.”

The door shot open, and quickly closed. A slightly flustered blonde man stumbled through. “Sorry to interrupt,” he began.

Aaliyah rolled her eyes at this notion, muttering a ‘sure you are’ to herself.

“We just finished polling numbers, and Andy, you’re up?” He projected the screen of his iPad onto a TV in the room, then passed the device over to Andy on his way to sit down.

“Thanks, Vis,” he gave him a curt nod.

“Why would our candidate allegedly hooking up with someone who hates him boost him in the polls?” Tony asked.

“Middle America loves a family man, you know that,” Vision said in a matter of faculty manner. “Andy has had a hard time connecting with that demographic because when they see him, they see an Elitist East-coaster.”

“Hooking up with a hot reporter does not make you a family man,” Aaliyah retorted.

“That brings me to my next point. If you don’t mind, I’d like to add a proposal of my own,” Vision stated, and received a shrug from the rest of the room. “Well, if we need to put a spin on this, the obvious choice is to explain that they’ve been seeing each other the whole time. Under wraps, of course. The photos the paparazzi received are not damning by any means, and look more romantic than sexual, to be quite frank. Y/N wrote those articles to throw the public off her scent, and she didn’t really believe anything she said, and Andy? He’s just a good, all American man who was tired of keeping his relationship under wraps. Everything’s to gain from this plan.”

“Well, I lose my journalistic integrity. That’s a pretty big loss to me. I may never work again,” you rubbed your forehead in a distraught manner.

“You won’t have to worry about working when you’re the First Lady. Think about it, if we can get votes from the swing states, we’ve secured enough electoral votes to have a Barber win. All over a little character rebrand.”

“Excuse me, the First Lady?” You nervously glanced between Vision and Aaliyah while you attempted to pick your jaw up from the floor.

“Well, yes. We can’t exactly get the full ‘family man’ look without Mr. Barber being a real husband.“

“Are we talking, real wedding?” Aaliyah questioned.

“Yes. You just have to be legally bound together for around four years, eight years tops. About twelve would be preferable, but I understand that not everything works out.”

“I don’t object to that,” Andy winked and nudged you a bit.

What a mess.

“Back to what I was saying, we’ll probably need about a two week PR period before we do a press briefing announcing the engagement. Give or take. During that time, we could have your publicist arrange all sorts of good photo ops for you two.”

“Either way, my career is ruined,” you sighed, and Andy set his hand on your back.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“You don’t have to do that. We’re not currently standing in front of 30 cameras.”

“Well, we should prepare for when we are in front of 30 cameras.”

“Is it though?” Vision interjected, bringing you and Andy back from your aside. “We can just deflect, maybe have a few of your friends make articles about how what you did wasn’t all that bad.”

“Is it not a valid criticism of me that I was sleeping around with the person who I was also slandering?”

“Is it not possible to criticize someone you care about? In fact, helping someone learn how to improve can be very romantic,” Vision shrugged.

There was a brief silence throughout the bunch while everyone pondered a counter argument.

“That right there, that kind of insight is why we call you the Vision,” Tony shook his head and proudly clapped the man on his back.

“So it’s settled then? We’re really doing this?” You glanced around at your peers while Aaliyah spoke. “Any objections, love birds?”

Andy shrugged, “I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life with her.”

You, on the other hand, weren’t so sure.

——

Barber and his Greatest Critic Break Bread Together on Friday

Y/N L/N Announces She’s Not Resigning from Senior Position, and That She’s Been Seeing Barber!

BREAKING! Barber Announces Relationship with Critic Y/N L/N

Is L/Nber the Ship that Shows us How Relationships Are More Powerful than Politics?

Our New Favorite Political Power Couple Showed Up Together at a Rally, and We Couldn’t Be More Excited.

Barber 7 Points Ahead in the Polls, Leaving Loguidice and Kline Trailing Far Behind

Was Y/N Really in the Wrong?

“L/Nber” Celebrate Valentine’s Day Together

These L/Nber House Hunting Photos Are Giving Us Life!

This was your reality for the next two weeks. The news cycle was filled with a plethora of articles about you, some criticizing you, some criticizing Andy, but most, supporting the two of you in your romantic endeavors. Unsurprisingly, the world loved a good story about two attractive people getting together.

During this period, you didn’t particularly feel like leaving, though the thought had certainly crossed your mind. You just weren’t sure that you wanted to be dealing with those terrible symptoms again in the midst of an already stressful stage of your life. At the same time, it seemed like the universe was not going to be fair with your time in this reality. You were convinced that you were here for the long haul, or at least, until Andy proposed to you.

Although it was a bit annoying, cameras around every corner, a watchful eye on everything that you or Andy even considered doing, you found yourself growing on Andy. In some ways, he was a bit more intense than Steve, whose personality had mellowed out a bit since the Snap.

This had been the first time in all of your travels where you felt like ‘Steve’ was the one pursuing you, and in all honesty, it made you feel good. Even if everything the two of you did had an aftertaste of artificiality.

You spent more and more time with him every day, staying together with him in hotels across the country, visiting local businesses with him to get the perfect photo op, and attending galas with donors. It seemed like in every candid photo of Andy, you weren’t too far behind. By the time the day of your proposal arrived, you weren’t even all that opposed to the marriage.

When the proposal finally arrived, the two of you were sat inside a rather fancy restaurant, finishing up your meal when Andy settled on one knee in front of you, “Y/N,” he began, and you felt the all too familiar tremble of your watch on your wrist.

You almost had to restrain yourself from exclaiming out loud. It’s not that you didn’t like Andy or anything, he’d genuinely grown on you. In the least cheesy way, it wasn’t him, but you. Being somewhere so unfamiliar for so long had begun to create a cumulative exhaustion that wore a bit more on you every day. Feeling homesick was an understatement.

You brought your hands up to your face, and gasped dramatically, squeezing your eyes shut to see if you could possibly produce a few tears, while mobile cameras and a few professional flashes were directed towards you. A few warm droplets slipped down your face, and for a moment you weren’t even sure how fake they were. It seemed like once they started, they couldn’t stop.

You missed Steve, your Steve, the man you’d fallen in love with. You missed your friends, teammates, and family. You missed the stability of knowing what the world held for you next.

In the midst of Andy’s proposal, in what should’ve been the happiest moment of your life, all you could focus on was your overwhelming desire to have a sense of normalcy in your life once again.

——

You woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing in your chest, and shaking your ribcage. You looked up to the ceiling of what you had grown to know was your room in the Compound, your real room, and felt your eyes well up in tears that stung you.

You sat up, and took as deep of a breath as you could manage, when you noticed Wanda sitting by your bedside.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said softly, coming closer to you, offering you a glass of water before sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Where’s Steve?” you asked, trying to gauge where you were.

“Honey,” she sighed softly. “I’m so sorry. He’s still missing.”

Your lip trembled as you took a sip. You really were back home.

“I know you’re hurting, but when you feel a little better, we’re going to Medbay. Banner decided that we should probably keep an eye on your vitals, but you were gone before we even had the chance to get you there.”

You gulped down the water, then set it on your bedside table, “so was that all just a dream or something? Why isn’t Steve back?” you huffed frustratedly.

“I don’t know why he isn’t back, but I don’t think you were dreaming. I was trying to watch your dreams, but I couldn’t read you, or your thoughts at all.”

“Hmm,” you mumbled, throwing your legs over the side of the bed, “let’s go.”

As you settled into the cold, and sterile medical facility you were hooked up to a plethora of monitors, and a cacophony of devices beeped as they read your physical state.

You tuned out the words being spoken around you, zoning out and looking forward to your vital signs monitor. Your mind wandered to your last few thoughts in your previous reality, the desperation to come back, to see your estranged lover again. You couldn’t help but to feel disappointed, lamenting the fact that you’d found your way home, yet felt the ever present void in your heart where your Steve used to be.

“Y/N?” a voice asked you, and you glanced in its general direction. “What happened while you were out? What did you see? Did it work?” Bruce pelted you with questions.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it yet,” you sighed softly, bringing a hand up to your neck and rubbing it. “The watch worked though, I was definitely in other universes. I just couldn’t reach him. Bring him home. I failed.”

“Do you think he’s really out there?” Bruce whispered to Wanda hoping that you might not pick up on it.

“I’m… I don’t know. I just don’t know how likely it is that we’ll manage to find him,” she responded in a hushed tone. You bit back tears as she spoke, resuming your empty gaze on the pixelated green text of your heart rate on the monitor.

“I’m sorry, guys. I have to go back,” you interrupted. “I can’t give up on Steve yet. I know he wouldn’t give up on me.”

“Y/N, you could be gone for centuries before you find him, then return back here with no time passed at all, and possibly no Steve. You don’t deserve to take on all of that pain,” Wanda set a hand on your shoulder. “Steve would’ve wanted you to move on from him. To find happiness without him.”

“I can’t do that, Wanda. Without him I don’t even know who I am,” your voice trembled as you spoke. “He’s literally been my only tether through all of this.”

“I just don’t know that this is the best thing we could be doing. Sure, you’re physically fine, but it almost seems like you’re doing worse emotionally than you were before you left,” Bruce added.

“I’m not!” you sniffled before continuing. “I’m just tired from going to all those new places.”

Bruce and Wanda didn’t seem too convinced. “Don’t you guys believe in me? When have I let you down on a mission before? I’m gonna find him, okay? I’ll find him if it’s the last fucking thing I do,” you blubbered.

Wanda’s hand slid down your shoulder, and to the watch that was currently on your wrist.

“Don’t,” you uttered, swinging your opposite hand to grab onto your own wrist. You were aware that there was absolutely no way you could overpower her in taking the watch from you, but even in your minor hysterics, you were able to think fast enough to press the round button before the watch was able to be taken off of you.

You, and your wrist shook. Wrist shaking from the watch, and promise of sending you elsewhere, and you from a mixture of sobs and adrenaline. Though not the most ideal exit, it was an exit nonetheless.

You weren’t even sure if you cared that you were on good terms with your teammates anymore.

You just needed to be with Steve again.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #marvel fanfiction #ABITRV

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Mondo Oowada x an effeminate male S/O

Request: Oml heyyy may I request a Mondo x male! S/O (imagine or headcanons i don't really know the difference dkfjlds) where the s/o is very feminine and tries to get Mondo to do feminine things? Painting nails, etc.

Of course! This was gonna be a head canon post but I just kept writing so I turned it into an imagine. The bullet points were getting too long LMAO, but it does include some personal headcanons throughout. And thank you for giving me my first ever request! Means the world to me! - Mod Kokichi

Imagine below the keep reading cut! SFW and no spoilers included~

Your first day at Hope’s Peak Academy as the Ultimate Tailor, you got teased a bit. It was inevitable. You were the new transfer student, fresh meat to pick on, and you were a dude in a skirt, a doubly enticing threat to bullies. Immature high-schoolers were always going to whisper and glare at the ones willing to step outside the norm.

On one of your first days there, during a particularly ruthless bullying session, the school’s hall monitor and student council president, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, stepped in after noticing the noise, breaking up the situation by standing between you and your oppressors.

“Bullying is not supported in this progressive and nurturing school environment!” Taka’s loud and volatile personality always made quick work of the school’s trouble-makers. He spun quickly around to you, inviting you to spend lunch at his table for your trouble.

You hesitantly agreed, but were glad you did in the end. That day, you met Taka’s best friend, Mondo Owada, a toothpick between his teeth and his feet kicked up onto the lunch table as he fixed his perfectly styled hair.

You immediately found him extremely attractive: the sharp jaw, the bit of chest hanging out the top of his tank top. Quickly, you fell into their little friend group full of excitable and extroverted men. There were random stragglers to your lunch table on certain days, with Akane and Shuichi tagging along occasionally, but the main staples that ate with you every single day were Fuyuhiko, Mondo, Taka, Kaito, and Nekomaru, subconsciously scaring away anyone who wanted to start shit.

You weren’t nearly as close to the rest of them as you were with Mondo, however. You often found yourself leaning against his chair, sharing your packed lunch with him, entranced when he laughed.

He found himself always hanging out with you, shootin’ the breeze, smoking up on the roof after classes, putting his hand around your shoulder when you told a joke that made him and Taka crack up at lunch. He kept many secrets of yours, and promised to take them to his grave.

When you came out to him as someone who likes men, he stuttered his response a little, but pulled it together.

“It takes a real man to admit what his heart’s feelin’, S/O, you can be sure your secret’s safe with me until you’re ready to tell everyone else.” Feeling the atmosphere become awkward out there alone on the rooftop, he quickly changed the subject “So, Ultimate Tailor, huh? Shit’s pretty sick. Seen some of your clothing designs out in the art wing’s showcase. Don’t tailors just tighten up and fix a person’s clothes, though?” You smiled at his interest in your field.

“Uh, yeah, normally I think they take in and size up clothes, b-but,” you put a hand to the back of your neck, nervous with his complete attention on you, “ I think some make designs from scratch, I have always loved making my own clothes. Maybe I should just be the Ultimate Fashionista instead of Enoshima…” you giggled, feigning envy humorously. Mondo smirked.

“Yeah, maybe you should. You gotta design me a new coat sometime. This one’s seen better days.” You both looked at the dirt caked at the bottom of his coat, permanent stains throughout, and loose threads hanging in random places.

“F-for sure!” You grinned.

Your days returned to normal, lunch together and group hangouts after school, but something was different...to Mondo at least. He had to admit, to himself only of course, that he felt a little jealous of you. You could just come out and tell him who you are inside. He could never be that open. He usually was the one keeping secrets, not expressing them. But then, he caught himself. Why should he feel jealous...he was a simple guy, he didn’t even have any secrets or desires to share, even with who would listen. He brushed it off as just his normal hot-headed mindset, and packed up his stuff in his bag for the day.

But the next few days, his eyes would linger on you even more, and he would become uncomfortable, his insides warm, his head clouded with that same envy tugging at his heart strings. In the hallway after last period, he kicked his locker, frustrated at this knot in his head and mind. What the fuck is up with him. Then it clicked…

“It takes a real man to admit what his heart’s feelin’.”

The next day, he pulled you out to the rooftop, his cheeks red and his heart beating wildly. You waited patiently, sitting down, figuring you were just in for another hang out session like usual, and pulled out your homework from third period, until he began to speak.

“L-look man, I have been thinkin’, ever since you told me you’re into dudes…”

Oh no...your head dropped expectantly. You felt like this was bound to come eventually, no matter what. He was this macho dude and hung around you all the time. It must be bothering him, ruining his rep-

“That shit takes heart, like I said before, and I owe you my truth too, r-right, since you trusted me with yours?” He startled you, looking for validation. Mondo only stuttered when he was pissed and screaming, but he looked nervous now, a look of begging to be understood that you empathized with all too well.

“I…” he looked out over the roof. Stop being a little bitch, Mondo, he seethed internally. “Fuck, I don’t know, man. I like you? I want us to be more than just friends. I mean, you’re cool as my bro, but…” He didn’t expect you to reach out and take his hand hesitantly, his cheeks flushing. You didn’t want his evident struggle to drag out until he blew a fuse.

“I think that sounds ‘sick’ ” you mused, taking up one of his favorite sayings. He nodded, a arm around your shoulder, unable to look you in the eyes. But he felt a wave of peace run over him.

Your close friends immediately picked up on this new relationship, seeing you lean on Mondo a little harder at lunch, Mondo’s blush as he rested his hand on yours over the table. Nekomaru slapped your shoulder loudly that first day as a new couple, almost shattering the bone there. He laughed, saying he couldn’t wait for you two to just finally admitted your feelings. A team works smoother when everyone is on the same page, after all.

Weeks passed, and inside school, there was little issue. It’s the 21st century. Most were accepting of your obvious relationship. Those bigots who weren’t didn’t try anything. No stupid ass student was picking on a dude with Mondo, Taka, Fuyuhiko, Kaito and Nekomaru at his back.

The problems started to arise when Mondo took you on rides on his bike, to his gang’s HQ or stomping grounds in general. That was the outside world, not an institution of modern and formal learning like Hope’s Peak. Japan itself was a little behind western society in terms of LGBT acceptance, and like the rest of the world, had a long ways to go.

With Mondo being the leader of a biker gang, a setting known for violence, masculinity, grit, toughness, and a yakuza-like brotherhood of men, it just wasn’t an environment most conducive to openly gay relationships, but no one in the gang dared to call out Mondo, knowing how hot-headed he is and ultimately respecting him as their leader. They owed him unconditional loyalty.

That was, until one day, a rather cheeky second-in-command saw you filing your nails, sitting in Mondo’s lap on a couch at HQ, and decided he’d had enough. He confronted you both in front of everyone, all eyes on you, making you shrink back into Mondo’s chest.

“Eh, boss. If you’re gonna have a dude in a fucking dress doin’ his nails and twirling like a princess on your dick, why not just date a chick? This is gettin’ a little embarassin.” He spoke angrily. Mondo was taken aback, not used to being challenged by his men, obviously the alpha of his pack. He paused, struggling to find a response.

“What’s the fuckin’ issue?! Like most of you idiots aren’t so close that you might as well be tuggin’ each other’s dicks anyway!” He spat defensively, refusing to take back talk from a subordinate. He looked down to your shaking form in his lap, seeing that you were obviously disappointed with his response and looked up at him with a bit of anger, tears at the corner of your eyes.

Why was he defending his rep, and attacking the man back? He should be defending the relationship, and pushing forward acceptance. It made you feel like he wasn’t proud of you, ashamed of what you two had become.

He saw this in your eyes and hated himself, changing his stance quickly. He scooped you up from under your thighs from his lap and set you on the couch beside him. He stood, stepping up to the out-of-line gang member, chest out, looking down on him with malice.

“Maybe you’ve forgotten your place, yeah? You forget who’s in charge? I’m involved with S/O, he’s with me, so he’s part of the gang. You’re gonna accept that, or there’s gonna be trouble to deal with, got me? What, you such a pussy that you can’t accept shit if it ain’t what you expect it to be?!” The second-in command cowered, breaking eye contact with Mondo, and the rest of the onlooking members returning to what they were doing. “Now, we got any other issues?”

When Mondo drove you home on his bike hours later, you sat behind him as always, but squeezed onto his waist a little tighter than usual, and his heart beat proudly, knowing for once he was sure he did the right thing. You two rode silently, you pecking his cheek before slipping inside your house. He walked back to his bike, blushing like mad, and you two texted all night.

The very next week, Mondo was over at your house for the first time, doing homework in your room. Well, that’s what you were supposed to be doing. Mondo wasn’t exactly the model student, much the the chagrin of his best friend Taka, and you just weren’t in the mood. And so you sat, him eating some chips from your pantry, watching you paint your nails on your bed, a towel to catch loose drips under your flattened out palm. You looked up to him, smiling at having his full attention on you as per usual when you were alone..

“Want me to paint yours next?” It just slipped out. You didn’t really mean it. A guy like Mondo wouldn’t want that, surely, but you figured it wouldn’t harm to tease him. To your surprise, he responded rather quickly.

“I seen Kaito walkin’ around this week with that shit on his nails. Maki apparently forced him to after he lost a bet to her. Didn’t look that bad, actually. Kinda looked sick with his jacket, all purple and shit,” he paused to think, “ fuck it, sure. But no pastel shit, yeah?” Your heart leapt with excitement. There’s no way you expected him to answer in a positive manner, but in this relationship, you quickly learned that you often underestimated Mondo, and let his macho-biker-gang persona leave you biased. You didn’t want people judging you by your sexuality or the eyeliner you wore, and suddenly felt hypocritical for ever pre-judging your big motorcylce-head of a boyfriend.

Mondo held his hands out after you finished, observing the slick coat of black polish that covered his once grisly and battered nails. Yes, you had to manicure them real quick to even get the polish to stick. They had dirt under them and the cuticles were disgusting.

“Hell yeah.” he simply spoke, smirking before pulling you in to lean on him as you finally pulled out your homework.

Weeks turned into months, and soon Mondo was watching you get your ears pierced again in a new place, then sitting in the chair to get his done. He took you, in turn, to get “ink that matched your bitchin’ sense of style” as he put it. The tattoo didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, and certainly inspired you to design clothes that showed it off and accentuated it.

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hypfic · 4 years

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Ikebukuro Otome 109: Ch. 3 First Meeting [pt. 1]

This chapter is a.... long one. But! I’m super pleased with how it turned out! The chapter wound up having to be split into two posts because of its size.... so here’s part one! Part 2 can be found here!

You jumped to your feet as you heard a knock at the door. After tripping over boxes as you rushed towards the front of your apartment, you brushed off the dust from your sweatpants and glanced briefly at yourself in the mirror. It’s not like you were nervous or anything, Ichiro was just coming to help you out. An extremely kind gesture he didn’t have to do, for you were sure he was busy, so him taking time out of his schedule for you was a big deal! You took a deep breath and smiled to yourself as you reached for the doorknob, your stomach knotting nervously as you opened the door.

Ichiro’s shoulders jumped when he heard the door handle move, but as the door creaked open, a smile instantly appeared on his face.

“Yo! You must be y/n, unless I got the wrong place?”

“Nope! That’s me, don’t worry. I wouldn’t give you a prank apartment number for our first meeting, have to have a good first impression, ya know?” You chuckled as you fully opened the door so he could step inside.

As he took off his shoes in the doorway, you tried your best not to stare. You’d thought the whole heterochromia thing was a stage gimmick, but those were definitely his real eyes, no contacts either. He was taller than you expected, and you knew this guy was active and offered to help you out with his muscle power, but damn you weren’t expecting that much. Even with a pair of baggy jeans and a loose fitting shirt covered by a jacket, you could tell Ichiro was built. His shoulders were broad and sturdy, and you could see the definition at the dip of his collarbones…

Wait. What? Why were you thinking all of this? Snap out of it! God, the poor guy came over to help you move in and you’re standing here ogling at him!

You cursed yourself in your mind and tore your eyes away just before Ichiro looked up.

“Alright! Where’re we starting?” He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the coat stand by the door. “Oh! How rude of me!” Ichiro hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. He bowed briefly before you with a grin, “Ichiro Yamada, leader of Ikebukuro’s Buster Bros and co- founder of odd-jobs Yamada, pleased to meet you.”

You snickered at his formality. “F/n L/n, uh… rookie designer for Zega’s character design team and new in town, the pleasure’s mine!” You bowed with a smile.

“Ok! Now we can start!” Ichiro nodded, looking out onto the sea of boxes. “Do you still have some that need to be brought up?”

“Uhm, yeah I think so, just two or three is all that’s left,” you said while counting the boxes on the floor on your fingers, “I went ahead and moved a good bit of them up this morning before you got here… I just left the big ones for last. I figured if we carried them up together it would make the job easier for the both of us?”

“Sounds like a plan! Lead the way, y/n!” He stepped back so you could walk ahead of him.

“Thank you for the help by the way, Ichiro-san, I really appreciate it. Ramuda was worried I wouldn’t make any friends or talk to anyone and I guess I was worried about it too, so it’s nice to have someone I can talk to.”

“Just Ichiro is fine, I’m guessing we’re around the same age so there’s no need for honorifics!” Ichiro smiled down at you while hearing your kind words. “And it’s no problem at all! My brothers and I started our business because we love helping people. Plus, I don’t really have many friends myself, so I guess I’m excited to have someone not involved with business or divisions to talk to.”

“Hm? You don’t?” That was surprising to you. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have a big group of friends cheering him on… weird. At least you had that in common. “Maybe that’s why Ramuda wanted to introduce us, he always nagged me to go out and make friends, I just never had the time…”

Ichiro chuckled. “Yeah, maybe…. He’s always scheming something one way or another, but he always helps me out when I need it.”

“Hmm, it’s an interesting friendship I assume, being rival divisions and all,” you nodded as you dug for your car keys in your pocket, “But it’s nice to see that even as competitors you still help each other out!”

“It wasn’t always like that,” he added as he reached out to hold the trunk open as you lifted the final few boxes out, “For a while I didn’t talk to anyone from my old division, there was a lot that went on and it really soured our bonds,” Ichiro let out a sigh, “But, some of us moved past it.”

“That’s good! I think?” You furrowed your brow in thought.

“It is! It’s comforting to have old friends you can rely on every now and again,” Ichiro lifted two of your boxes off the ground, “Took a while to regain trust but, it's a work in progress.”

You hummed and nodded as you hoisted the final box into your arms and started to make your way back to the apartment complex. “A work in progress is better than no progress at all, no?”

——

☆♬○♩●♪✧♩　 ←previous │ part 2→ 　♩✧♪●♩○♬☆

T A G L I S T: @mguqiis @hypnosis-mic-smuts

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miraculouscontent · 4 years

Text

Askplosion #11:

(note that I know I mentioned a “Voiced Askplosion” last time in the tags for anyone who put a 🎤 in their ask, meaning they wanted to hear me respond verbally to it, but I only got one and it wasn’t anything serious - just a tease from someone I know - so I either won’t be doing it at all or will be holding off)

Asks responding to previous posts:

ALYA NO!!!

(the idea of Sabrina avoiding not only Ms. Mendeleiev, but also Alya, is very amusing to me)

The fact that the special focuses on the love square instead of Sabrina and Delmar is a crime.

(also note that “Need some help?” is rhetorical in this context; Alya doesn’t care)

Highly recommended, honestly, otherwise it just turns into a big shame because there are shows I really like but with some content that I don’t like, and why torture myself with it when I can cut it out instead?

Just to give a rough idea, here’s my cut of “Desperada”; mind you, this is just my quick cut of it (basically a “beta” version where I just removed everything I disliked without much care for transitioning/having everything make sense; some of Marinette’s friends talking, the guitar scene, Aspik, etcetera), as I’m not comfortable handing over my “perfect” cut of it since it’s like my personal copy.

Yeah, that’s a super awkward scene. As much as I’d like to imagine that Adrien just doesn’t understand the “guy time” thing (which I still hate), the fact that they use the word “guy” specifically is--ugh.

I wasn’t aware of what he said in the French dub, so thanks! It’s really painful to see her throw so much love his way, openly and publicly and obviously, then be so humiliated for it, only for Adrien to feel nothing for her.

Say whatever you want about Chat Noir’s advances and how sAAAAAAD he is when she rejects him, but her rejections are just that; in private. There aren’t other heroes who are around and Chat is never really humiliated. Even in “Prime Queen,” Chat wasn’t the target - Ladybug was, and then Ladybug shifted it to Nadja - so Marinette is the one taking all the heat in love while Chat gets to sit on the sidelines (plus, then “Oblivio” happened and now people probably all thing they’re a thing).

Yeah! That’s the group I was thinking of!

Thank you!

I’m so sorry that happened. ;—;

I’m not aro but I am ace and I’ve gotten the whole, “oh it’s just because--” stuff before, so I know what it feels like to have people put on the pressure/invalidate you.

YES.

IT’S GORGEOUS.

I’m not really familiar with how holidays are celebrated outside of the bare basics of Christmas/New Year (which I am trying my hardest to forget lol), so I couldn’t say.

Sorry!

New Asks:

10/10 thought, would fantasize again.

Though would also accept MC Audrey just doing some “spring cleaning” of the whole staff in general. I have no idea how she’d replace Jeremy since he’s the company’s poster boy but most of the writers have to go at the very least and Jeremy should be given less power.

I think MC Audrey would appreciate how Kagami carries herself, though potential bonus if - while Tom and Sabine just openly trust whatever Marinette wants - Audrey does a bunch of digging to make sure Kagami is “worthy” of being with Marinette (she takes this all very seriously).

Double potential bonus if Kagami takes it just as seriously, so here’s Audrey and Kagami acting as if Kagami dating Marinette is like some sort of job interview.

Kagami handing over a “resume” of her accomplishments to Audrey. Audrey has already looked all of it up herself but appreciates the effort put in.

If the question in Miraculous is, “Do we really need a--” and the thing being introduced is something the staff came up with then the answer is usually “no.”

The movie will look pretty and that’s all I’ll expect. It’s just Jeremy’s take on Miraculous. Luka and Kagami probably won’t even be around so I’m not even interested.

I’ll watch it, but I’m also not interested lol.

Honestly, I’d rather turn into bubble froth.

oddly specific but... I mean, damn

I have no idea, and I try not to throw around words like “spite ship” because I know people could genuinely like the ship, though I will say that I went on AO3 and - unless I read from - the first Maribat fanfiction on there was posted after the airdate of “Chameleon.” I think it might’ve started with inspiration from “Marinette moves schools” ideas at the very least.

Non-Miraculous Asks responding to previous posts:

Oh, I understood, no worries! It was just funny for the split second it took me to figure it out.

My bad, that’s not how I meant to come off (especially since “magical girl shows” is a little broad; I mean, obviously I don’t think something like Cardcaptor Sakura is aiming for fanservice when Sakura’s--like... ten). I answered all those asks in the last askplosion in the same day so my brain was a little fried by the time I got to that ask.

I’m not even talking about Sailor Moon either; it’s just that I knew there are shows with fanservice and there are certain magical girl outfits where I kind of give the side-eye.

Absolutely zero problem with girls fighting in pretty outfits though. I fully admit that I’m a bit of a prude so sometimes I see fanservice where there might not be any. Super short skirts without shorts, for example, inherently throw me off (shout-out to Saint Tail - which I discovered while looking up “pretty magical girl outfits” - because the main character does have a skirt in “magical girl” form but also tights/boots and a cute hat, which is one of the more unique ones I’ve seen).

Non-Miraculous Asks:

Do you mean Sailor Moon Crystal? Yeah, the only reason I hesitate on Sailor Moon in general is because I’m not crazy about the transformed designs. It’s not really a matter of animation but more a design choice that takes me out of the experience.

I have seen all of Cardcaptor Sakura anime though, and then all of the Clear Card arc. I like the former, despise the latter, and I tried to keep up with the manga but once one of the big plot details were revealed, I officially dropped it.

As for Revolutionary Girl Utena, I looked it up a while ago and don’t remember what exactly turned me away. It might’ve been the darker tone though if what you say is accurate that it’s a darker take on a magical girl show.

Also, I may or may not have looked up the ending of at least Princess Tutu and I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s a great anime, but if there isn’t a happy ending then I give whatever anime a hard pass.

(note: yes, I realize the hilarity of saying that when I continue watching Miraculous)

(More Madoka Magica talk/salt below!)

Ohhh, it started a trend? I had no idea since I don’t actively keep up with every anime out there; descriptions need to really pull me in (the only current anime I’m keeping up with is Hanyou no Yashahime, Otherside Picnic, and Cells at Work (Season 2)).

The focus on specific--uh--body parts in magical girl transformations also reminds me that I think that’s usually what kills it for me, not because of the sexualization but because I expect transformations (especially ones that get repeated over and over) to be really dynamic with changing angles and such, which is harder to do when the camera is trying to draw focus to specific places.

Obviously you have to do it for some moments (I’ve always imagined Miraculous transformations like a potential sheep or another one for rabbit, then rabbit!Jean from Leave for Mendeleiev and fox!Juleka from LadyBugOut) because things will be weird if you focus on nothing, but I think there are ways to draw the eye without trying to sexualize.

Not having Ladybug-esque bodysuits is a good start. It reminds me too much of the Catwoman with just a bodysuit so it leaves nothing to the imagination.

How did I forget about that Sayaka scene? omg (though I dunno if the Bechdel Test is hard to pass if there aren’t really any endgame male love interests? are there rules about that? not saying a pass isn’t a pass but it feels like cheating)

It is nice when fans can respect the opinions of others without having to outright attack. I have had a few people come to me with, “I see your point/respect it even if I disagree,” instead of accusing me/others of--well, you get it.

Fandoms can be really messy, particularly as they get larger. I think there’s a certain balance between small fandoms that all know each other and a big fandom that’s out of control. Then there are things like “loud minority” and it’s just uggggh.

Anyway, back to the asks themselves, yeah, I’m not crazy about taking things that are just meant to be positive/cute/whatever and being like, “OKAY BUT WHAT IF IT WAS EDGY AND SAD.”

n o , p l z

Oh, I’ve never heard of that one!

Sayaka dying didn’t really do anything for me either. It’s hard to explain when I saw it so long ago, but it was just Sayaka’s attitude about the whole thing and it made it feel underwhelming. It was a shame too because I liked her and she had potential.

She was Madoka’s friend so I was just like, “Yeah, she’ll die soon.” Probably didn’t help since I knew what I knew about the show being “dark.”

Madoka/Sayaka is probably what I’d support the most out of all the potential shoujo ai ships. To my knowledge, none of them are really canon, though I remember a special song after the death Sayaka and Kyoko which I guess makes them the most canon and that did basically nothing for me since their relationship didn’t interest me (nor did I care for Kyoko as a character). The PSP game might have more intimate potential between the girls, but I never played them so I can’t make those claims (I only remember something about everyone potentially living and then a bad ending for Sayaka where part of her body was decayed when they didn’t get her soul gem back in time).

The tomboy argument makes me think back to a conversation with a friend of mine where we were discussing tomboys in anime and... we couldn’t really think of any? At least any that really qualify as “tomboy” for me.

Like, Misty from Pokemon, for example. I knoooooow everyone really likes Misty, but regardless of my opinion on her, it’s hard to see her as a tomboy.

I feel like they try to lean that way by making her super aggressive and violent (because... m E N) and I think Ash makes a comment once about her not being “like a girl,” but... I feel like that’s just how general “aggressive” female characters are written?

I mean, that’s tsundere female characters I’ve seen in general. Really loud (and not in a “gIrlS aRe sO lOuD aND ScReEcHY” way but like... the way anime gives them big heads while they scream at whatever male character they’re mad at), angry a lot, short fuse, etcetera.

But Misty is still crazy about clothes and dolls, she still gushes about cute things and romance, and both of those things seem pretty indicative of what “standard girl character” would be defined by, since they’re all “stereotypically girl thing” (I say stereotypically for obvious reasons since boys can like blah and girls can like blah and gender exclusivity is blah--). I get that she dresses differently, but that’s about it, and it comes off like, “she dresses differently and she’s ANGRY and VIOLENT, so she’s a tomboy,” which... yeah. They even gave her three beauty queen sisters with CURVES and BUSTS as if to say, “See?? These are GIRLS, not TOMBOYS.” (busty females can exist who are also tomboys, thank you have a nice day).

This becomes more complicated in magical girl anime since girly clothes are usually part of that so “tomboy” means that frills and skirts probably wouldn’t be a factor.

I mean, if you gave those sorts of outfits to me, I’d be like, “SCREW IT, I’M NOT A MAGICAL GIRL ANYMORE. IF LOOKING PRETTY IS REDUCED TO SKIRTS AND FRILLS, SOMEONE ELSE CAN SAVE THE WORLD.”

I’d also like to see some mixes between personalites and “tomboy” things. Like, non-stereotypical tomboy personalities doing tomboy things. Mix and match, y’know?

This was really rambly, but to answer the question... no, I wouldn’t count Sayaka as a tomboy.

All of this.

I think it also exemplifies the whole “dark and edgy magical girl show” thing because... ugh, how do I put this...

The “girls are overly emotional” thing is already bad, but then you realize that there not being any magical boys is also because that doesn’t hit the “shock value” threshold as much.

Y’know, because boys equal dark and edgy shows, so if there was even one magical boy it wouldn’t be as shocking when Mami gets her head chomped. They could’ve done, “emotional teenagers are the target because they’re in that vulnerable stage; smarter and more physically capable than children, but not as mature/stable as adults,” but having some boys in there for balance (it makes me feel weird saying that when I’m all for girl power shows with an all female cast, but in this show’s logic, it’s a different ball game) would make the show seem less bright and “girly” and thus lessen the shock value.

Does that make sense?

#((Aspies who also deal with Winter Blues or Seasonal Affective Disorder))#((how do you do iiiiiit))#((my usual methods aren't working and I'm constantly sluggiiiish))#category: trash #special: Miraculous New York #MC's Art #art: single picture #relationship: alya cesaire & sabrina raincomprix #category: salt #episode: Party Crasher #relationship: love square #relationship: adrien agreste & marinette dupain cheng #MC: Audrey Bourgeois #relationship: kagami tsurugi & marinette dupain cheng #character: marinette dupain cheng #other: non ml talk

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goodwriterwithbadhabits · 4 years

Text

The Study of Hearts

Master List

Warnings: Hospital talk, minor swearing

“Hey Y/n, what’s been up with you today, doc?” You spare a quick glance over at the nurse who’d come up beside you, glancing away from the patient’s chart for only a second before returning to it.

“Nothing’s up with me, I’ve just got a lot of patients today.” She scoffs instantly. You should have known better than to try and lie to Nurse Choi. She had been your head nurse during your internship, and your residency, she knew almost everything about you, and you were a fool to assume she wouldn’t notice your sudden drop in mood.

“Don’t tell me that. We’ve had a fuller ward than this and you’ve never snapped at someone. That resident you scolded is still crying in the nurses station.” You feel a twinge of guilt at her words. The resident hadn’t really done anything wrong, but offered up the wrong medicine when you asked the group a question regarding a patient. You may have laid into them for longer than necessary about checking charts and allergies before handing out meds. “And this morning you actually shouted at the guy who took your parking spot. This isn’t like you.” You’re thankful the patient you’re currently looking at is asleep, recovering from a surgery that just ended. “So tell me what has the calmest, most level-headed doctor in the cardiology department so wound up.” You sigh deeply, setting the chart back into the sleeve at the end of his bed.

“My boyfriend.”

“The idol you swear you’re dating.” She huffs, somehow not believing you. You roll your eyes, deciding not to continue and simply walk away. No one ever believed you when it came to your boyfriend of nearly 4 years, and he wasn’t helping his own case either. “I just can’t believe an idol would date you, I’m sorry Y/n.” You spin back to the older woman, rising to your full height. You were sick and tired of people looking down on you for who you were dating as if they had any clue what was happening.

“It’s Doctor L/n, Nurse Choi. You may refer to me on personal terms when we are outside of this hospital, but seeing as you refuse to respect my personal life, you are no longer privy to it.” She blinks up at you in confusion before nodding. You can almost feel the shock she emits.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Room 1134, Patient Kim Seungkwan needs to be prepped for anesthesia. Dr. Song will be here in an hour.”

“Yes, Doctor.” She bows to you before turning away.

“And Nurse Choi.”

“Yes,Doctor?” There’s a hopeful gleam in her eyes when you call for her again.

“Tell that resident to stop crying, if he can’t handle being reprimanded there is no place for him in a medical field.” Her shoulders slump again, but you can’t bring yourself to feel guilty.

“Yes, Doctor L/n.” With one last curt nod to her you spin on your heels, stalking down the halls to your office.

You’ve barely gotten the chance to start your computer before someone is knocking on your office door.

“Who is it?” You ask, annoyance clear in your voice.

“Someone told me you’re having a bad day.” The voice of the young Chairman has you standing immediately as he walks in.

“Chairman Yoon, forgive me, I didn’t know it was you.” You bow, but he simply waves it off.

“Come on, Y/n, it’s just us. What have I told you about bowing to me.”

“Sorry Myungsoo, someone could have been behind you.” You chuckle dryly at your friend. “What do you want? I’m in the middle of something.” He holds up a small lunch box, waving it slightly.

“I brought ice cream, but if you’re too busy I’m sure someone else will help me eat it.”

“I’m never too busy for ice cream.” You relent, holding out your hands for the box. “And I guess your company too.” He takes the seat across from you, watching for a moment as you dig in.

“So tell me, how come you’ve been such a bitch today?” His comment makes you choke slightly.

“Yah, Myungsoo, what the hell?”

“Come on, Nurse Choi’s upset, you yelled at a resident so bad he had to go home early.”

“He’s a crybaby.” You huff.

“That’s besides the point. What’s eating at you?” You sigh, stabbing your spoon into your ice cream and setting it on your desk.

“Mark.”

“Huh, you’d think Mark eating you would make you happier.” His joke has your cheeks flushing instantly and you throw your napkin at him.

“Yah! That’s not what I meant.”

“What about Mark? I heard their tour ended a few days ago.” You clench your teeth slightly, recalling exactly what’s got you so pissed off.

“They got home last night, at least BamBam says they did, only Mark didn’t text, call, anything. I only found out they got back in when BamBam posted a selca.” “So you’re mad because he didn’t come see you?”

“I’m mad because I’m fucking sick of it!” You explode, slamming your hand on the desk, making him jump. “He refuses to tell anyone we’ve been dating for almost 4 years, so everyone thinks I’m some delusional fangirl. He refuses to talk about the possibility of moving in together, we never go out when he’s in the country, and when he’s on tour I barely get a text once a week. He’s never met my friends or my parents and it kinda feels like he doesn’t even want to be in a relationship with me.” You finish your rant with a huff, raking your fingers through your hair. “He’s been managing to piss me off without even talking to me.”

“Sugar, I don’t think you’re mad, I think you’re hurt.” He begins, setting his own treat down, “Anger is a secondary emotion.”

“I know that, I did take psychology.” You grumble.

“So what’s really making you so upset?” You cross your arms on the desk, hiding your face in them.

“What if he doesn’t want to be with me any more? What if he just sees me as a burden these days and is trying to make me break up with him, so he doesn’t feel bad?” Myungsoo sighs, reaching out to rub your arm soothingly.

“I think if you’re questioning the relationship, you should either talk to him, or break it off.”

“I know, I’m just not sure if I’m ready for that. I really love him, you know?”

“Chairman Yoon, we have a meeting sir.” A voice announces, knocking on the door.

“You should go, thanks for the ice cream, and letting me vent.”

“No problem, sugar, you should call him.”

“I will.” The moment the door shuts behind him you pull your phone out of your bag, and pull up his contact. He doesn’t pick up, but you aren’t shocked. “Hey Mark, I heard you got in last night, I hope you’re doing alright. Look, I uh, I didn’t call for no reason. I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think it’s going to work out between us. There’s just so much missing between us, like,” You scoff lightly, “Like love. So yeah, I uh, think we should break up.” You look up to the ceiling, blinking back tears. “I get off at 11 tonight, if you want to call me back then. I doubt you will though, you never seem to want to talk to me any other time. Either way, I have Thursday off, you can come get anything you left at my apartment then. Bye.” You hang up quickly, before shutting your phone off and tossing it in your bag. You felt like sobbing, just finally crying and letting it all out, but you knew you couldn’t, you had patients to help, and they were the priority.

Of course, by the time 10:45 rolled around, you were dead on your feet, your brain hurt and you were about 2 seconds from cracking open the emergency wine you kept in the fridge in your office.

“Sir, I may not be a pulmonologist, but I can tell you that smoking combined with not exercising are a major factor in why your heart is damaged.” You insist, trying not to roll your eyes at the man as he scoffs.

“I don’t think you’re qualified to talk to me about this.”

“Sir, I’m-”

“Doctor L/n to Emergency Care, paging Doctor L/n to Emergency Care.”

“Mother-” You cut yourself off with a huff, “Sir, while you are in my care, it is my duty to offer you medical advice. You need to cut back on the cigarettes or quit entirely. While you’re in this hospital you are not welcome to smoke unless outside in a designated area, with a nurse present. Good night.” You bow, quickly exiting the room before you lose your cool and punch him.

“Doctor L/n, you’re needed in-”

“I heard,” You interrupt the resident who ran up to you. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a patient. He was attacked by a mob. He seems alright but he refuses to leave without seeing you.” The kid explains, holding the elevator door for you.

“Is he having trouble breathing? Shortness of breath, chest pain?”

“No, I haven’t seen his chart yet, but as far as I’m aware he only has a few cuts and bruises, if there are any internal injuries, it would likely be contusions on his ribs or-”

“Spleen, why on earth am I being called?” You’re racking your brain for some kind of answer when the elevator door opens.

“Ah doctor, you’re here.” The head of the ER sighs, meeting you only a few steps away from the lift, “Good. This way.” She begins leading you down one of the quieter halls.

“Jangmi, tell me you have some grasp as to why someone needs a cardiologist here right now.” You bite at the inside of your lip, completely lost as to why someone might need you.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, he’s insistent and he’s mentioned you by name several times. Besides I’d rather his company continued to send their idols here.”

“Company?” You ask, just as she opens the door. “Who-” “Oh thank god, the good doctor is here, now will you stop being a baby?” A familiar voice asks, and your heart leaps into your throat as you round the privacy curtain. There, sitting on the bed, looking pitiful in the hospital clothes, was Mark Tuan. You have to bite back tears as you pick up his chart. He had several bruises already forming on the skin you could see, and a split in his lip.

“Mark Tuan what the hell happened to you?” Blood pressure, normal. Pupillary response, normal. No signs of concussion or brain trauma.

“Some sasaengs started fighting as we were trying to leave, Mark got caught in the middle.” Jackson explains, toying with the IV stand. “Hey what does this button do, Y/n.”

“Don’t touch it, Jackson.” Your response is instant and almost habitual, having had to slap his hand away from your tools plenty of times.

“I’m sorry, Doctor L/n, do you know these men? Personally?” Jangmi asks, noticing the way JB lingers at your shoulder and Jackson immediately stops toying with things.

“You could say that.” You muse, “Your vitals seem fine, though your heart rate has gone up slightly.” You can’t help the cheeky smile that dances onto your face. No, you broke up with him. You set his chart back down, grabbing his chin softly to turn his face towards the light. “You’ll have a few bruises, but nothing your make up artist can’t cover.”

“Y/n-”

“So you have any trouble breathing? Shortness of breath, chest pain, headaches?” You ignore his plea of your name in favor of the heart monitor next to him.

“No I’m fine.”

“Then why did you beg a cardiologist to come see you?” You snap, turning on him. “If you wanted to finally talk to me, you could have waited fifteen minutes. Instead you’ve wasted the time of not one, but two doctors, at least one of our residents and several members of the nursing staff. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What do I have to say? What about you? You broke up with me over a voicemail.” He shouted back, and you watch from the corner of your eye as everyone in the room takes a step back from the two of you.

“Well if you ever pick up your damn phone when I call, I could have broken up with you like that.” Your voice is somehow level, despite how hurt and angry you are.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.” Well, fuck, okay that was on you. “I didn’t want to run into you like this, but I figured ‘fuck it, you work here anyway’ might as well see you.”

“So instead of waiting to be discharged and coming up to my department you worry me sick by begging me to see you like this? Do you know how scary it is to be paged down here? I was terrified someone’s heart had stopped beating, or I was going to need to perform an emergency surgery and I found you sitting here, beaten up instead.” The dam breaks, and the first tears begin streaming down your face. “The second I heard JB’s voice I was terrified I was about to have to save your life. After everything I told you about my work, about my fears of finding you on my table one day, how dare you use that against me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Mark jumps up, pulling you into a tight hug as you cry into his shoulder.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know. I know I’ve been shitty. I should be taking you out and showing you off and I haven’t been. I’ve been so scared that Aghase might reject you, I never realized I was the one doing the rejecting. Please give me a second chance.”

“Promise me you’ll change?”

“For you, in a heartbeat.”

“Um, Dr. L/n.” Jangmi’s voice has you pulling away from Mark, wiping your eyes on the cuffs of your sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Seo.” You laugh, trying to calm down. “I’ll handle his discharge paperwork.”

“Of course, Doctor.” She chuckles softly, offering you all a bow before exiting the room.

“You really broke up with him over voicemail?” JB asks, clearly trying not to laugh.

“I was upset.” You defend. “I also yelled at several people and told one of my closest friend’s to go fuck herself.”

“Well, I’m declining your break up attempt, you didn’t tell me directly, so it doesn’t count.” Mark decides, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you walk out of the room. Nurse Choi is standing immediately outside the door, discharge paperwork in hand.

“Oh, Nurse Choi, I thought you were up in Cardiology still?” You greet.

“Dr. Seo asked me to deliver this personally.” Her eyes are wide as she sees Mark’s arm around your waist and the other boys just behind you. “It seems I owe you an apology, Dr. L/n.”

“Yes you do. I’ll take those.” She sets the clipboard into your outstretched hand with a bow, moving to walk away. You saw the slump in her shoulders as she walked away, and the guilt crept into your chest. “Before you go,” Your call has her turning back to face you. “Noon, Saturday, come have lunch with me? Please Jisoo?” The smile that erupts on her face is enough to make you feel better.

“Of course, Y/n, see you then.”

#mark tuan #mark tuan imagine #mark tuan imagines #got7 imagines #got7 #got7 imagine #goodwriterwithbadhabits #halloween game #request

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norarigby · 4 years

Text

Piercings

Pairing: Dabi x TattooArtist!reader

Warnings: very slight blood mentions, staples are mentioned, very very very slight suggestive content, Dabi being a bit of a creep

Word Count: ~1.4K

A/n: I know this trope is a little overdone with Dabi, but it was what I was craving so....enjoy!

It was a slow day. You only had one or two appointments for the day and you’re last one finished up about 15 minutes ago. That meant you were stuck up front until a walk-in came in. It wasn’t the best (especially since it had been this way everyday for the past week or so), but you were off in an hour and binging up front meant you had full control over the music. Pros and cons.

Speaking of, you hooked up your phone to the sound system and pressed shuffle on your classic rock playlist. Sabotage by Beastie Boys came on first and you smiled. What a classic. You lightly bobbed your head to the beat as you leaned back on the stool, leaning yourself against the wall and propping your feet on the counter. Sam hated when you put your feet on the counter, but he currently wasn’t there—and what Sam didn’t know, wouldn’t kill him.

You unlocked your tablet and worked on a design for a client you had the next day. This design wasn’t hard (one of the Pinterest inspired, minimalist looks), but actually working on something was better than staring at the boring wall for an hour.

The playlist shuffled a few more songs, then landed on your personal favorite: Cold Hard Bitch by Jet. You turned the volume up a few notches and drummed your pen lightly against your leg along with the beat.

Ding!

The sound startled you a bit, but you composed yourself and stood up to greet whoever walked in—hopefully, they already had an appointment. That thought quickly disappeared from your mind as you finally looked up to see who had walked in. Your usual greeting caught in your throat as you took him in.

He was...handsome, in a strange way. His hair was ink black and was spiked oddly. He was tall and looked athletic, but the baggy clothes coupled with the dark trench coat masked his true figure. But the most intriguing was the insane amount of piercings—and how many of them looked like they were attaching a purple skin to his normal skin.

Noting your lingering gaze, he smirked, pulling your eyes up to meet his. You made eye contact and your body began to run hot with how intensely he was looking at you. “Like what you see? I’ll even let you take a picture, free of charge.”

Oh man.

His voice.

It was a deep rumble that you could’ve listened to all day. In fact, it had been so enticing that it took you longer than you would’ve liked to form a string of words into some semblance of a sentence, “Oh, uh, I’m so sorry. I’m not usually so unprofessional. You’re piercings are just- well, there’s a lot of them.”

He laughed (damn, that was going to be the death of you), “Nah, that’s alright. I’m pretty used to that kind of attention.” He moved to the counter and leaned on the surface with his forearms. “Actually, they’re why I’m in today. I’m having a few, ah, problems with a couple of the piercings. I was hoping you could help me.”

His colbalt eyes flickered up to meet yours. You seriously considered that if he asked you to do anything, anything, in this moment, you would honestly say yes. What was with this guy?

“Yeah, I think can help you with that. Why don’t you come back and I’ll take a look.” You heart pounded as he smiled while following you to your room in the back. For some reason, bringing him back was feeling extremely intimate. It shouldn’t have been, though. He definitely wasn’t the first man you’d worked on. He wasn’t even the first attractive man you’ve worked on. But that fact didn’t ease the your nerves.

You gestured to the chair, “Go ahead and take a seat while I get my things.” You turned to the sink, grateful for the brief moment of privacy to gain some more composure.

“Sure thing.” You heard the chair squeak and settle under his weight. “You know, I never caught your name.”

I never threw it. “It’s, uh, y/n.”

“Y/n...?”

“Y/n l/n.” You collected your piercing instruments into a pan and reached for the masks and gloves. “Care to share yours?”

“It’s Dabi.”

You sat in your chair and swiveled over to where he was sitting. It started you as you observed his eyes were already on you. The pan was set on a side table next to him and you put on the latex gloves with a snap, “No last name, Dabi?”

He watched as you adjusted the disposable mask and arranged the tools next to him, “Sorry, sweetheart, that’s classified.”

You glanced up at him briefly before rolling your eyes, “Alright, drama queen. A simple no would’ve sufficed.”

“Ah, c’mon, y/n. Don’t be like that.” He leaned in, peeling your attention away from the table, “Besides, that name sounds pretty good coming from your lips already. Wouldn’t want to spoil something so nice.”

Masks had never been more useful in your life until that exact moment. You could feel your cheeks flushing—and you knew from his smug expression that he could tell too. Quickly turning your attention to finishing your prep, you changed the subject, “So, what problems with your piercings are you having? Closed piercings? Stuck piercings?”

“It’s a little complicated. But you’ll know when you see it.” You heard some rustling of fabric.

“What’s that supposed to....oh.” He had taken off his jacket and had his palms outstretched, revealing some of the staple like piercings popping off the skin. The two skins had parted and were slightly bleeding. You realized that the piercings weren’t piercings; they were surgical staples. “Dabi, this looks serious. You should go to the hospital or see a doctor.”

He retracted his hands and his gaze got dark, “That’s not possible for me. I need this done here.”

Between his intense glare and not knowing how to even help him, you felt like a deer in the headlights. This probably was a job for medical professionals, but Dabi definitely wasn’t going to take no for an answer. It wasn’t that different from some piercings you’d done. And he didn’t seem super worried, so it was probably alright? Right?

Coming to a decision, you held out your palm as an offering. His gaze relaxed and placed his left palm in your hand. It took some fiddling and experimenting, but you eventually fell into a groove and were able to fix the staples on both hands as well as a few on his chin.

“And that was the last one.” You pulled away from his face and began to clean up, “I gotta hand it to you, Dabi, that was the most interesting appointment I’ve ever had.”

“Keeping things interesting is my specialty.” The chair groaned again from the weight shifting off it, “Thank you, though. How much to I owe you?”

You turned to find him much closer than you thought. He towered over you—a good 5-6 inches on you at least. It also scared you how quickly and quietly he could move around.

“Uh, no need.” You held up a hand to stop his response, “I didn’t use any of my piercings and this took me, what, 10? 15 minutes? Seriously, it’s fine.” You pumped some hand sanitizer into your hands and started to walk out of the room, “Besides, like I said, this appointment was by far the most interesting I’ve had in a while. Consider it a thank you.”

Dabi had followed you out to the front. He leaned onto the counter as you resumed your spot on the stool. “Only if you’re sure. I may not be the best guy out there, but you’ve seriously done me a huge favor here and I don’t want to dupe you out of the work you’ve done.”

You waved your hand, “Don’t worry about, Dabi. Seriously, it’s all good.”

He smiled, and you sensed some mischief behind it. Sure enough, he slowly leaned in so he was right next to your ear and whispered, “Damn, well since you said my name so sweetly.” He pulled away and chuckled, leaving you flushed and dumbfounded.

“See you soon, sweetheart.” And with that, he left.

Huh, you thought, I am in way too deep.

(Posted December 31, 2020, 01:53 AM MST)

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currywaifu · 4 years

Text

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: mutuals 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: miyoshi kazunari/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 1.9k words, 2 images

𝐚𝐧: me? back w/ fluff? it’s expected at this point! his speech is hard for me to replicate, but I rly do love Kazunari so I hope I did this scenario justice! I, uh, got too excited at the prospect of “insta mutuals” oops~ hope you don’t mind the additional media TT

The Insta notification that popped up on the top of your screen distracted you from the game you were playing. Normally you’d flick the notif away, but as soon as you realised what it was about, you rushed to finish the rest of the stage.

You and Kazunari have been Insta Mutuals for nearly a year now, ever since he hit you with a follow and you proceeded to stalk his readily-available socials.

The two of you had been liking and commenting on each others’ posts for weeks on end, starting off with you praising his most recent graphic design work to him sending a paragraph of heart emojis on the most recent fan art you drew.

Somewhere in between following each others’ spam accounts to tagging each other on Insta story games, he finally slid into your DMs and the rest was history. Sort of.

You knew what people said about online dating, or even just long distance relationships in general, but try as you might it was hard not to fall for Kazunari.

The more you talked to him, the less he stayed as your “funny artist mutual” and soon enough he progressed into the “still funny but also really sweet and cute artist online friend, 10/10 would date if asked” category.

You didn’t bother stifling your laugh as you looked at the message he sent you, immediately liking his selfie before saving it on your phone.

Okay, no. He can’t just hit you with an “I do wanna meet u already” and then take it back but not fully commit to it!

You waited for him to respond through text, but instead got hit by your ringtone blaring loudly at such an ungodly hour. At the sight of your contact nickname for him, you eagerly answered his call. You rushed to get the first word in, him doing the same unbeknownst to you.

“Kazu-“

“Babe, I-“

The both of you paused, his eventual laughter easing up your tension as you let out a giggle of your own. You mentally told yourself not to be so nervous— Kazunari and you would have this conversation eventually anyway; besides, it wasn’t as if you didn’t want to see him in person. It was quite the opposite, actually. You just figured that conversations like this needed to happen in call, at least.

“Shoot, should probs shut up so Mukkun doesn’t wake up,” Kazunari commented, his voice volume already lowered, “do you wanna go first?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you replied with resolve. You gathered up your thoughts, formulating the next set of sentences that would leave your mouth, before ultimately deciding on one question. “I just need to know first… how serious were you about meeting up irl?”

“I mean, that wasn’t what I meant when I sent the message? But like, it’s still valid, you know?” he paused, but when you didn’t say anything he decided to continue, “it’s not the first time I’ve thought about meeting you. I think about it a lot, actually.”

It was a bit of a shame the two of you chose to voice call instead of video call. You would’ve loved to see your boyfriend’s face just about now, though you supposed it wouldn’t be a good idea to have a heart attack a quarter to 4 in the morning.

Plus, you weren’t sure you could handle him teasing and throwing compliments at you due to your clearly visible elation, if the upwards stretch of your lips was anything to go by.

“Babe? You still there? Did you pass out, or…” In reality it had only been a few seconds, but still you didn’t want to leave him hanging. Not when the two of you were talking about something that meant taking the next step in your relationship.

“I’m still here, Kazu,” you reassured him. Your voice shook slightly, a sliver of your excitement slipping through the cracks. “I’m the same. Like, no lie I was shocked we brought it up like this, but, um… I’m ready, and if you’re ready, too, I want to meet up with you.”

“Wait, wait, wait— hol’ up! So we’re finally going—“ he laughed for the second time tonight, a fuzzy-wuzzy warmth escaping as its sound equivalent. “Wahh! Of course I’m ready! Can’t wait to finally see what a cutie you are irl♪ Hngg, how am I supposed to sleep now? I’m too hyped up!”

You rolled your eyes, despite understanding exactly how he felt. His infectious cheerfulness amplified the blossoming commotion occurring inside your brain. Despite not making any official plans yet, the prospect of finally meeting up had you frenzied.

Still, one of you had to be at least slightly responsible. While you wouldn’t claim to know his daily schedule, if Veludo Arts was anything like your university, he should be as swamped with workload as you were. Actually, maybe that was the reason he was up so late? That’s how it was for you, anyway excluding the fact that you took a break to stamina clear.

“It’s nearly 4 am… do you wanna continue planning this tomorrow? Err, rather, in a couple hours? After our lectures end, maybe?” You asked, though by the tiny whine Kazunari let out you had a feeling he wasn’t going to agree so quickly.

“Ehh? Why don’t we do it now? I have so many ideas about where we could go, and what we could do… oh! I could introduce you to everyone in Mankai! I’m sure they’d love-“

“I’d love to meet them too,” you cut him off, tone as firm as you could manage at this time, “and I want to hear your ideas, really, but I just know if I let you keep talking the sun will rise before we’ve even decided on a date.”

You chuckled as Kazunari let out a sound of protest, though you had a feeling he knew you weren’t wrong about your assessment. “Zuzu~ Let’s go to sleep now, okay?”

His phone microphone picked up on an audible gasp. “Ehh, how come you rarely call me Zuzu? It’s cute when you say it!”

“Because it sounds like a nickname you’d give to a Pokemon!”

“Uwu, maybe I’ll get Itarun to lend me a copy? Then I’ll catch the cutest Pokemon and name it after you~” you nearly groaned at how fluffy he was being. Seriously, he was distracting you from your agenda of going to sleep!

“Kazu! Stop flirting with me at 4 am or we might not fall asleep!”

Though you couldn’t see him, you were 200% sure he had a wide grin plastered on his face right now. “Me? Using tactics to get you to keep talking with me? Never,” he claimed, professing his false innocence.

“Well, I’m not falling for it! I may not be able to physically tuck you in bed right now, but I can in spirit!”

“Oh!? Then can you give me a goodnight kiss in spirit, too?”

At this point, you were sure that even with just a poke on the cheek you’d be able to feel the heat beginning to envelop your face.

As Kazunari finished laughing, you let the quiet lull of the night seep in the conversation for a few moments before gently breaking it.

“I’d rather give you a kiss irl, though.”

And just like that, you claimed victory over the game he started. With how Kazunari sputtered, a part of you worried that he’d disturb his roommate’s slumber. Still, an even bigger part of you was smug to have him speechless for that much of a duration.

“Babeeeee,” he drawled, “you’re so, so, so unfair… I, like, really want to hold you tight right now…” he murmured, the rustle of his bedsheets discernible through the call. You found yourself nestling onto your bed, too, snuggling up to a soft pillow.

“Soon,” you suddenly yawned, your tiredness seeming to have settled in the comfier you got on the bed. “We’ll have a lot of time to plan tomorrow and the days after, yeah?”

Kazunari let out a hum in agreement, a comfortable silence following suit.

“Kazu?” You muttered quietly, careful not to disturb your peaceful atmosphere.

“Yeah?”

“I love you. Good night,” you said, heart aflutter as you heard his response.

“I love you, too, cutie~ sweet dreams♪” he said in an unbelievably soft tone, before ending the call.

After quickly connecting your phone to a charger, you fell back atop your bed and hugged your pillow tight, already anticipating the day you’d be able to hold Kazunari in your arms, and you in his.

…

Morning come, you hastily prepared for class as you always did. You fell into your usual routine— as soon as you were out of the bathroom, you selected an outfit and went over the things you needed to bring to uni today.

You stopped for a minute; taking a quick selfie to post on your story and emphasise your exhaustion to your close friends, before making yourself some breakfast. Within less than 5 minutes, your phone pinged— a recorded message from one of your favourite people this early in the morning.

"Mornin' piko☆ You're looking cute as always today♪”

There was no way you would admit to how many times you replayed it to Kazunari, but even so it was a good way to keep you positive for the rest of the day.

You don’t remember Veludo Way being this rowdy, though it was hard to trust your memory when it’s probably been years since you’ve last visited. Somehow, it was not tough to imagine Kazunari walking around and performing here— the liveliness of the streets difficult to not associate with one of the liveliest people you knew.

While the original plan was to meet up at a cute and trendy cafe you saw all over people’s SNS, the two of you agreed to meet up somewhere less crowded and more meaningful to him— the theatre which he’d performed at multiple times in the past.

As you saw the building from a distance, you wondered when you’d be able to see him on stage, too.

A shout of your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you couldn’t help yourself from running over to meet up faster with the figure that was jumping and waving around in your direction.

Had you any sense left, you probably would have told him that you didn’t want him embarrassing himself in public, but in reality it was quite apparent that you were just as excited to finally see him in person.

“Kazunari!” you can’t help the little shriek you let out as you finally embrace him, only joyous laughter and each others’ names escaping the both of your lips. When you finally got a good look at Kazunari, you nearly wanted to bury yourself into his shirt again.

Everything still seemed so unbelievable. That this was real. That it was finally happening. It almost felt like the dreams you’ve had of this moment many times before.

“How are you so beautiful in person, too?! It’s totes like I’m falling in love with you again♪” Kazunari exclaimed, squeezing you one more time before finally settling on holding hands with you. “Ahh! I super, duper love you!”

Except it wasn’t. There was nothing imaginary about his warmth, and the way his words made you feel, and the beaming sunshine of a smile he aimed at you.

“I love you, too!”

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