#while riddle's mom actively pushes riddle's friends away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

equestriagirl16 · 2 years ago

Text

Under the mistletoe~🎄

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Here’s a lil something for those who are curious as to how twst bois would share a smooch with their favorite prefect in a familiar tradition.~

Notes: I guess this also counts as my 1k followers special, thank y’all so much!!! Pls reply/reblog. !Ortho is platonic!

Riddle is in an interesting case. Somewhat stuck between being all too willing to participate yet stubborn in his embarrassment. He was probably pushed towards the thought by his fellow dorm members, eventually cooking up an idea after collaring them. He decided to simply coerce you to join him in this activity, enforcing it as another silly rule during Heartslabyul’s Holiday tea party. When you arrived, you stood chatting with your friends. That’s when he sauntered over in an authoritative manner as always.

“MC if I could have a moment with you. Would you mind standing here.”

“Sure Riddle but what’s-ooooh.” You go along with him standing across from the strangely stiff ruler under a lit and well decorated shrub arch. Curious about what he needed you for, until you saw that familiar green bundle hanging above you two.

“A-According to Rule #259 all holiday traditions must be carried out in full. So of course this is no exception-”

You swiftly hush his rambling with quick peck on the lips leaving him speechless, with his face adorably flushing redder than the colored lights.

“Well who am I to break the queen’s rules. Merry Christmas riddle”

“M-Merry Christmas MC.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Ace would try his best to play it cool, being the suave playboy he desperately tries to be. Perhaps he did it as a dare or on a whim, either way he knew this could be a perfect opportunity to fluster you. That site would be sweeter than any of the food set out and rest to eat at the party. He’d attempt to distract you during your conversation after you arrived. You both slowly make you’re way over to the same arch, as you try not to notice his blatantly shifting eyes the whole time.

“Hey MC, bet you didn’t notice where we’re standing.”

“No clue, unless you’re referring to the mistletoe conveniently placed right above us.”

“Ah-way to ruin the surprise! I was trying to be romantic here.”

You hum apologetically and seal it with a kiss on his warming cheek. When you step away you’re quickly pulled back into his chest.

“Hey, you missed a spot.” He says planting a nice smooch right on your lips, just as planned.

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Deuce being the sweet boy he is would most likely just ask, admittedly a bit nervously. The gesture is always something that’s been on his mind during this time of year. Seeing school peers participate, and even hearing his mom go on about her younger days, made him quite curious about the act. Now that he has someone to try it with he was more enthusiastic than he’d like to show, hoping his sweaty hands wouldn’t give it away. When you stepped into the lit up garden, he unleashed every ounce of confidence to grab your hand and drag you over to a familiar designated spot.

“Ok ok Deuce slow down, your gonna rip my arm off here.” You say between giggles as he abruptly stops you two under the same arch.

“Sorry it’s that I-uh. I really wanted to do this with you before I chicken out.”

“And what’s that-oh!” Without another word he silently points above you as you direct your attention to the dangling plant.

“Awe Deuce.” Before he knew it your lips were on his, and despite his protest they moved to both his cheeks right after.

“Merry Christmas Deuce.”

“Hm, Merry Christmas MC.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Trey absolutely adored the idea for a long time, knowing it was a romantic moment shared between lovers. He just thought it was cute, and what better way to spend the holidays than doing something cute with you. He would plan his attempt during either the cleanup or prep for the festivities, but either way you’d be in the kitchen helping him out. Perhaps while you’re distracted he’ll make his way to you with a little surprise behind his back.

“Thanks again for the help MC, you really are a lifesaver.”

“Its no problem Trey you know I love helping you out.”

“Yeah I do. By the way what’s that?”

“What’s wha-”

You see him lift his arm and immediately notice the quite little piece of holly he held above you.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Maybe this will answer.” You lay sweet yet deep kiss onto unsurprising sweet lips. When you break you’re greeted with a familiar wide smile.

“Was that what you were looking for?”

“Hahaha, always.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Ok, Cater knew kissing under the mistletoe is like THE thing to do if you have a partner during this time of year. All across his magicam page were couples in their winter attire all snuggled up and lovey. He wanted to do that too, especially with you, not only would it be magical but his followers would go crazy over the content! He would honestly just go for it, but with a cute amount of misdirection. Simply asking for a photo op under the same decorated arch for his magicam page.

“Alright MC, just stand right there I’m gonna set up the camera.”

“Cmon Cater you pulled me away before dinner started. I’m starving!”

“Ok here I come!”

He jogs over to you embracing you in a back hug as you both pose waiting for the flash of the phone. However, when Cater knew there was only a second left he swept in for sweet and loving kiss right on your cheek much to your surprise. When the camera went off he instantly went back over to retrieve his device.

“Omg MC! You look so cute, everyone’s gonna go gaga over our special mistletoe pic!”

“Mistletoe?” Curiously you looked up to spot the dangling plant in question.

“Cater!”

“Whaaaat, you don’t like my gift MC?”

Leona wouldn’t care at first, at least not in the sense that he’s running to you thirsting for a holiday smooch. He’d probably raise an ear to it once he heard about it from another source, or maybe even straight up from you. Not to mention the thought of being the one and only to sweep you off your feet would stroke his ego. You can thank a certain hyena friend of yours for the push. So he thought if it’d satisfy you too, he might as well put in a little effort.

“Hey Herbivore over here.” You heard Leona call you from his comfy spot in the Savanaclaw lounge. They were having a little holiday celebration, that he casually invited you to. You trotted over and plopped down right next to him, getting comfortable yourself.

“What’s up?”

“Hmm probably that.” You look up as he pointed to the mistletoe dangling within the canopy you two were under. Before you could say anything, he tugged you by the waist and smothered you in a heavy kiss. When you pulled up for air he then dragged you to lay down with him in one swift motion.

“The holidays are always so tiring, stay here for a while and don’t move alright.”

“Alright, ya big kitty.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Ruggie honestly thinks it’s a little cliche but it did seem like a good way to get a laugh out of you. He’s only ever seen in some of those movies, or seen people do it as he passed them by on the streets. He thought it was sweet enough, a bit mushy, but that’s how he feels when it comes to you anyway. Plus if there was anything he could do to make you happy he would. Not too keen on anything that involves expenses, but a free act of service is always his go to. So he came up with something on the fly when you came to their holiday party.

“Hey MC, you got something right there.”

“Oh what is it-WAHAHAHA RUGGIE!” As he pretended to reach for the mysterious something on your body, he began to tickle you within an inch of your life. You eventually fell over dragging him down with you. He stops after that as you catch your breath.

“R-Ruggie what was that for?!”

“Shishishi, found it.”

He holds up the little bundle of holly above your head, smooshing a kiss against your cheek before rapidly pecking your lips earning more giggles from you.

“Hope you enjoyed gift number 1. Sorry there’s not many after that.”

“I’d say you're off to a great start, but don’t worry about all that. I’m already plenty happy.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Jack wouldn’t really know how to go about it when he eventually decided on doing it. Mostly egged on by his first year friends to try being more romantic with you. He may not be too gung-ho, but it’s a nice opportunity to share something sweet with you. I think he’d be very straightforward about it, he’s not the suavest guy but the genuineness is more than enough.

“MC, would you like to join me for something for a second?”

“Yeah sure, you need anything?”

“Well I heard about this whole mistletoe tradition and was just wondering…” You notice him start to trail off as his face turns a slightly darker shade. It’s cute you think, usually such a big brave wolf trying to ask for something like this. How could you not oblige.

“I’d love to. Cmere big guy.” You quickly drag him over to the nearest mistletoe you see hanging and without hesitation pull him down into a kiss. It lasted a bit longer than you expected, but it was well worth it to see a flustered Jack with a fast wagging tail behind him.

“Thanks MC, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Jack.”

Kalim is also extremely forward, just the absolute most excitable and sweetest boy when it comes to the romantics. The holiday ones were no exception either. He’s seen so many films, and plays, and even relatives indulge in this tradition. So how could he possibly resist setting up something special for you, ya know aside from the million other things he got you this year. That way he has another excuse to throw a huge party at his dorm and make you a guest of honor. Specifically requesting an entire hut be reserved for the occasion.

“MC! I’m so happy you could make it! Come with me quick.”

“Ok ok, just slow down for a sec.” You both merrily jog throughout the lounge and make it to said hut. When Kalim pulls back the curtains you witness a beautifully decorated little hideout made for two. Like a holiday oasis, complete with a mistletoe hanging in the center. You could swear you saw jewels in that thing.

“MC, I’m so happy I get to spend this time with you. Do you think I could have the honor of sharing a holiday kiss?” He asks grabbing both your hands tenderly and leading you under the dangling plant.

“Awe Kalim, the honors all mine.” You both sweetly lean in for a picture perfect kiss. It was soft but made you feel so light, smiling sweetly at eachother when you separated.

“Merry Christmas MC, now let’s head back to the party!”

“Right behind you!”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Jamil would be extremely hesitant, mostly because he’s not one for the mushy stuff. He’s also witnessed this activity from friends and family, but never would he have thought he’d get the same chance. He wants it in his own right, but if he does do it has to be private and personal. Something he can share with you alone and feel the pride well up inside him when he hopefully gets to see your flustered face in the night.

“MC, can I borrow you for a second.”

“Huh? Oh yeah sure.” You break away from your conversation with Kalim and follow Jamil throughout the hallways of the Scarabia dorm. Stopping to sit on a window bay while you both peeked out the frosted glass.

“So what can I do for you Jamil?”

“I don’t need anything. Though Kalim’s parties are so extravagant I can barely think.”

“Yeah I needed a bit of a breather too.”

“Luckily I know a great way to distract us.” Opening your mouth to ask what that may be all that came out was a gasp seeing Jamil be mere inches away from your face. The pull at that point was undeniable as your lips collided with his in a strong kiss.

“You gave in so easily I didn’t even need the mistletoe did I?”

You raise your head to see the plant in question secured to the window above your head. Chuckling you lean onto him smirking when he looks down at you with a bit of deep red on his cheeks that he tried to hide.

“I guess not.”

Vil is slick with it, an extremely proficient charmer. He would also know very well about this sweet holiday tradition. Unfortunately, throughout the years he’d be constantly pestered by fans and others alike to indulge in the deed with them. Of course he never gave them the time of day, he may love having the world in his hands but somethings were special. A sacred activity he would only share with someone he deemed to be his only beloved. Naturally, sweeping you off your feet comes with ease so he really didn’t have to plan too far ahead with this one. Mistletoe was practically a huge part of Pomefiore’s decorations this time of year. All he had to do was invite you over to their holiday ball, clad in the most beautiful Yule tide attire of course.

“Sooo how do I look?” You ask confidently yet still seeking his esteemed approval.

“Hmm, you clean up quite well. You just need some final touches.” Carefully he reaches for the collar of your clothing, folding and fiddling with it absentmindedly. He notices how you look at him with nothing but adoration and patience unlike any other. Standing straight and elegantly just like he always taught you. His face softened as both his hands settled on the sides of your face, squishing it a bit.

“You really are an adorable little potato aren’t you?”

“Hehe I try, but you’re always so gorgeous Vil. Thanks for inviting me.”

You beamed so brightly in your gratitude and Vil could actually feel himself become restless. He needed something, and intended on getting it right this moment. Hands still firmly planted on your face he pulled you forward delicately kissing your lips as you enjoyed the soft feel of his own. The moment was brief and gentle, yet you looked beyond breathless when it was over.

“What was that for?”

“Well I have to give credit where it’s due. Like I said, you look quite elegant tonight my dear. It would also be a shame to miss such a picture perfect opportunity.”

He gestured to one of many branches of holly that decorated the walls over your head.

“I suppose it would. Merry Christmas Vil.”

“Merry Christmas MC.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Now Rook would be one of the few to deviously plot how he would ensnare his little prey into such a compelling trap. What a beautiful way to celebrate ones love for another during one of the prettiest seasons as well. He’s always been unashamed in his flirtations, so what reason would their be for him to hesitate when it comes to swooning you. Of course he’d watch throughout the night to strategically plot where you would end up halfway through the party. Making his entrance when your guard was down.

“Hello Mon Amour.”

“GAAAAAH-Rook! Where are you even hanging from?!”

“Apologies, but there is something I must share with you. It’s very important you see.”

“This better be worth the heart attack.”

“Of course, if you could turn your attention to your left.” Swiftly you turn your head in that direction seeing a delicately put together mistletoe Rook had hanging right in front of your face. You attempt to question him, but when you turn your head back the right side of your cheek was met with a chaste kiss from a smirking pair of lips. You pull back in surprise much to his amument.

“Hahaha what an adorable face your making! Mignonne/Mignone~.

With a pout an idea quickly popped into your head. You pull the upside down man towards you planting a huge kiss on his lips. Now it was his turn to be flustered.

“How’s that for cute.”

“Hmm, my point still stands!”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Epel obviously knew about the classic tradition, things like those are pretty common back on the farm you know. It was also something he knew he had to accomplish as soon as he had a partner. Because Epel is a man, a manly man. Manly men swoon their partners, they make the first move. They sweep them off their feet, and they definitely don't get cold feet seeing them in the flesh that night. No, he can do this, he has to, he’s gotta prove he can step up and be the one to steal that sweet holiday kiss from you. It’d be perfect, just like all those Christmas romcoms his grandma watches every year. So with a deep breath he stomps over to you.

“MC, you look great tonight. Well not just tonight, I mean you always look nice.”

“Why thank you Epel, you look quite handsome yourself.” You say reaching over to adjust his lopsided bow tie, although you did like it that way. The action made his breath get caught in his throat so without a second thought he took that same hand and dragged you away to somewhere private.

“C-Come with me!”

“Ok-Woah!”

He led you to a more secluded hallway, somewhere he knew he could drop the formalities.

“Listen MC, Imma be honest with ya. You know nobody gets my heart beatin like you do so I-I wanted to have one of those special holiday kisses. Do somethin all romantic ya know?”

“Well isn’t that uncharacteristically sweet of you.”

“Uh-” Before you let him say more you bring his face to yours in a swift smooch. Squeaking when you feel him bring you in closer by your waist almost hungrily. You both separate flushed and panting.

“Damn, you sure are somethin else.”

“You’re not too bad yourself. Merry Christams Epel.”

“Merry Christmas darlin.”

Like no lie I can’t get the thought out of my head of Azul purposely covering the entirety of the Mostro Lounge head to toe in the little Christmas bundles. He’s a smart man, he knew all the ins and outs of what lovers participate in. So what better way to win you over once again, with a little planing of course. When the preparations were done, he’d claim it as being a part of their special winter event theme to reel in customers. Although the one he mainly wanted to reel in, however, was you in what he thought to be a master plan.

“Happy Holidays MC, you have my gratitude for volunteering in the Lounge tonight.”

“Well from what I gathered at first I was just invited, but somehow you roped me into kitchen duty.”

“More hands on deck are always needed, and worry not you will be compensated. In fact if you’ll join me this way for a second.” Offering a hand to you, the suited gentlemen led you away towards the aquarium displays. You took a moment to bask in the beauty of the sea creatures gracefully swimming about. As Azul looked at you with a smile ghosting on his own face.

“I see you’ve once again taken an interest in our display, but I think you’d enjoy it even more if you take a further look towards the top.” Following his advice you adjust your gaze upwards, seeing a string of mistletoe adorned along the top edges of the tank. You feel a presence close to your side as you slowly look back down, your eyes meeting pair hidden behind glasses.

“Well now, it seems we’ve come under traditional holiday obligation. You wouldn’t mind indulging in me would you?”

“It seems I have no choice, I am under oath after all.” You say with fake dramatics, pulling a chuckle out of him. Within a moment's notice, he delicately grabbed your face bringing it closer to his at an agonizingly slow pace. Although the wait was worth it, feeling his lips delicately press against yours. It was swift and sweet yet you don't think he was breathing the entire time.

“I hope that was to your liking.”

“Considering you went through all this effort to dress up the Lounge I’d say it would suffice.” A wave of red and a pair of fogged glasses stared blankly at you. Another quick peck on the cheek would make things better right?

“You’re adorable, Happy holidays Azul.”

“A-And to you as well MC.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Jade is probably the most forward out of anyone here, yet also quite unique. He’s also someone that appreciates the romantics, especially the aesthetic of it all. The season set up quite the perfect mood for such a sweet moment. The thought of being able to share that with you brought him a good deal of joy, perhaps he could prepare something special. He had different plans and they didn’t start with the Lounge rather the gardens. He humbly requested that you take a break from your duties and accompany him on a nice stroll. See the frost decorate the glass walls of the building maybe.

“Woah the windows look so cool.”

“I agree, although I would like to show you something before you’re too far gone.” You playfully try to nudge his arm but he evades and grabs your hand, guiding you further into the gardens.

“Since this is a special time of year I decided to experiment a bit with a certain plant that seems to be customary during the winter.”

“You mean like some poinsettia-woooooah!” You gaze up at a humongous tree with spindly green leaves. Each small branch being decorated with shiny pearls and ribbon.

“Did you really grow this whole thing yourself?!”

“Of course, a little magic and dedication go a long way. Although it was still hard work, I think some compensation for my efforts is in order.”

“Hehe, alright maybe you’ve earned a little something.”

No further words were shared as you both crept towards one another, and embraced almost seamlessly. His kiss was graceful with a slight hunger behind it, causing you to be lost in a daze when you broke off.

“I’m glad you enjoyed my little gift. Perhaps you’d like to take some home as a momento?”

“If you can manage to hack off anything from that monster I’d be happy to.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Floyd is also bold, very bold, scarily bold. Bravery to the point where decorum is no longer an option as he tried to weasel you out of the Lounge. You see, any opportunity he has at all to tease you in the slightest he’ll take it in a heartbeat. Especially this one, being able to share a Christmas kiss with his shrimpy? Ah, he could just eat you up! Your talk through the night was tame enough, but he seemed to have some extra anticipation running through his veins. Acting on instinct he began to tickle and tease until you both broke into an all out chase. Speeding down the hallways loudly and without a care in the world.

“Shrimpy come back! You know you can’t outrun me!”

“No! You play too rough!”

“That’s only because I LOVE you!” He emphasizes finally on your heels and tackling you to the ground. He resumed his onslaught of tickling, finding pleasure in your giggle filled begs. Eventually he let up knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

“Ok ok!! UNCLE, FLOYD STOOOOP!!”

“Alright Shrimpy I’m done, no more tickles. I do have one more gift for you though.”

“Floyd please, I don’t think I can handle any more surprise-” The mischievous eel quickly stole your breath away, smashing his mouth against yours. You whined as you felt the collision of teeth, but the pain was soothed as he let up a bit. Kissing you passionately, coming up only to plant more kisses all across your face and neck making you laugh and squirm again.

“Floyd! You promised!”

“No, I don't think I did actually. Besides, how can I resist giving my cute Shrimpy all these kisses when we’re under the mistletoe.”

Realizing what he said you look up to see a bundle of the delicate plant hanging above the windowsill you two crashed under.

“Sneaky eel.”

“Cute Shrimpy.”

Ortho is an adorable case to say the least. He hadn’t even had anything planned in the first place. The young robotic friend of yours just wanted to invite his bestie to Ignihyde’s Holiday dorm celebration. He arranged most of it himself, with surprisingly a lot of help from his brother. Idia knew deep down the gesture would make his little sibling happy. So despite his lack of presence, he did what he could. So when you walked through the door, he was just over the moon already.

“MC! I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Of course, anything for you bud.” He squished you in a hug, that took a bit of the wind out of you due to his unconscious strength.

“I assume your brother’s still cooped up in his room?”

“He’s actually just taking a break for now. Big brother’s been really helpful so far, he promised to try if it’ll make me happy!”

“That’s great Ortho! Do you think we could see him before everything gets started? I don’t want to pressure him to come out too much tonight, so let’s just visit him in private for now.“

“Great idea MC, follow me.”

You trotted behind the flame headed boy as he soared off towards Idia’s room. When you both were walking down the hallway you noticed a little something hanging above his bedroom door.

“I see your brother could only manage a bit of mistletoe for his decor huh?”

“Oh! That was actually my idea. I have a surprise planned for big brother and you're going to be the one to help me finish it.”

“Am I now? Well before I give your brother this gift, how about a little something for the party planner?”

“Oh?”

You swoop him into a strong hug as he reciprocates, enjoying the warmth you both bring to each other. Giving him a quick and obnoxiously loud kiss on the cheek, bringing a laugh out of the adorable cyborg.

“Awe thank you MC! I’m glad we get to spend Christmas with you.”

“Me too little buddy.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Idia was taking a much needed breather after helping his brother out with this party. All that direction took a lot out of the poor man and he needed just a little time to himself. Relaxing in his solitude enjoying the Holiday events in his favorite games. Undisturbed and thriving, only for that all to come crashing down as he heard a knock on his door. He practically jumped out of his skin so hard he fell over in his chair. Embarrassed despite no one being able to see him, he quickly rushed over to see who could be possibly bothering him right now!

“Who’s there!”

“Big brother it’s me, and I brought MC too!”

“M-M-MC?!”

“Hi Idia, think you could open the door?”

With ridiculously shaky hands he forced himself to at least crack it open. He wanted to see you tonight but not so soon! It’s a good thing he didn’t start that quest yet.

“H-Hey.”

“Cmon big brother it’s just us, you can come out.”

“I know that! Just hang on.” He finally steps all the way out his bedroom, closing the door behind him so you don't see the mess he always leaves in his wake.

“So Idia, your brother says you helped plan the party. That’s so nice of you.”

“Y-Yeah of course. I had nothing else to do so I thought I might as well.”

“And as a thank you for doing such a great job, we set up a little surprise. Somewhere up there.” Confused Idia looked up to where you were pointing, all the color left his face when he did. A mistletoe…A MISTLETOE!! Like the same mistletoe people kiss under in all those cringey normie holiday movies?! The exact same mistletoe he always sees be used in those otomes so the main lead can swoon their love interest?! No way, WAS HE THE LOVE INTEREST??! That can’t be right, you’re YOU and he’s HIM! You can’t honestly be saying that you want to kiss him! Or have him kiss you?! Well he can’t say he hasn’t dreamed of it before, but he’s not ready. He does want this, he wants you, but it’s just too much. Too sudden, his heart is pounding, his head is spinning. This is finally it for him isn’t it??

“Big brother, your heart rate is dangerously high! Do you need assistance?”

“NO-I mean, I’m fine I just-! MC, do you really wanna..?”

“Well, yeah, only if you do though. I would never make you do anything you don’t want to Idia. If this is too much, just say the word ok?” Of course it’s too much, but to turn you down right now just makes him feel even worse! If this feeling really is mutual then what’s stopping him? His dumb heart, and sweaty hands, he can’t let his own head ruin this moment. He can’t let you slip away because he’s scared, not this time. Just this once, he has to do something! ANYTHING! If his body would just MOVE!

So it did, almost automatically his stiff and shaky frame moved so fast you could barely tell what happened. All you could feel were clammy hands clutching into your arms, and a pair of quivering lips laying against yours. You return the favor and lean closer into him, something that elicited a squeak of surprise from the fiery man. You both backed away and dazed at one another not really sure as to what just happened.

“Big brother you did it!”

“I DID IT?!”

“Heh, you did.” You say hugging the Idia warmly.

“And I couldn’t ask for a better gift.”

“Aaaaah, this is the best Christmas ever!”

Malleus, our sweet dragon prince, is a romantic at heart. All the stories he’s been told, and the relationships he’s seen through tinted windows would only encourage his love for the theatrics of it all. Although he is still blissfully ignorant to a good deal of customary ways humans indulge in one another. So when he heard that there was a special plant people share a kiss under during the Winter session, he just had to seize the opportunity. He learned all he could from books, and even asked Lilia if this plant had any magical properties. Maybe it has a love spell to seduce your partner, or it binds souls for eternity perhaps? Luckily, the vampiric caretaker assured Malleus that this is just a simple tradition amongst humans. But the ones that require no spells or tricks tend to be the most significant don’t they?

Diasomnia isn’t very well known for their Christmas celebrations, but an attempt was made regardless. Mostly as an excuse to invite you to their humble ball. Malleus waited for your arrival with bated breaths, the only quell being seeing you happily greet his dorm members as you walked through the ballroom.

“MC, I’m so happy you could make it. I’m sure everyone will be glad that the guest of honor has finally arrived.”

“I don’t need all that spotlight Mal. I'm just happy to be here, and to see you.”

“And for that I am forever grateful.” He swiftly takes one of your hands and brings it up to his lips in a chaste kiss. Grinning mischievously at your awestruck face.

“Would it be alright if I borrowed you before the festivities begin?”

“This isn’t another kidnapping attempt is it?”

“Haha! For tonight only, you have my word.”

You squint at him suspiciously, yet he leads you out of the ballroom regardless. You both end up around the back of the dorms where bushels and plant life grew. Festering with dark thorns, now covered in a thin blanket of frost and snow. It was almost ethereal in a way, such a dangerous plant that held such beauty.

“I can see you’re enjoying the view as well. The beauty of nature at its finest, wouldn't you agree?”

“Indeed I would Draconia.”

“Speaking of plant life, I learned a very interesting human custom recently. Apparently around this time of year couples usually engage in a romantic kiss under a particular bundle of branches, do they not? I believe it’s called..”

“Mistletoe?” You interject, looking up to see a piece of the ribbon wrapped plant tied to an arching branch of thorns. Delicate yet dangerous, how poetic, and how familiar. You looked back down at the man in question who gazed at you expectantly and wanting.

“Awe Malleus.” You leaned in closer to the gleeful dragon. His eyes glowing in the night yet only staring at you while you advance. He embraced you yet as the distance closes between you two, the mistletoe slipped loose of its tie and blew away in the winter wind.

“Oh no!” Malleus noticed as well and without a second thought, he flew up to capture the bundle with you in tow. You gasped in surprise but were secure in his hold. As you two floated high up, the moment was almost incredibly dream-like. Being swept into the air by your charming fae as he held the plant above you. To his shock you took the initiative to grab his neck and pull him down into a kiss. It was sweet and intoxicating, as Malleus held you impossibly closer. You could tell he didn’t want to separate but unfortunately you needed air.

“I can see why this is such a prominent tradition among your kind. That was..”

“Magical?”

“Yet somehow so much more. Happy Holidays to you my love.”

“Happy Holidays, Malleus.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Lilia with all his years of wisdom in and out of the castle walls, he would be quite knowledgeable of this quant holiday tradition. He thought it was cute, and what a lovely way to celebrate the love between hearts on such an occasion. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to participate this year and snag the opportunity to see his favorite human become so adorably flush again. So without hesitation when you arrived at their little holiday gathering, he set his plan into motion.

“Well if it isn't our lovely MC, it’s good to see you tonight.”

“And you as well Lilia.” You say playfully bowing. He mimicked your gesture with a chuckle, and then grabbed your hand and led you towards the center of the ballroom. Gliding you around the marbled floor so gracefully you almost felt as if you were floating.

“You sure are lively tonight.”

“What can I say, this time of year puts just about anyone in a good mood.” The bat fae says spinning you one last time before dipping you down. Inching his face closer to yours with a fanged smile.

“And I suppose it helps that I have you in my arms as well.” His voice was almost a whisper as he firmly pecked your lips. A kiss so sudden you couldn’t help the muffled gasp that left you, yet you took time to enjoy it for as long as it lasted. He pulled away, staring down at your cutely dazed face.

“Forgive me if I was too forward, I just wanted to indulge in a classic holiday tradition.” He looked towards the ceiling of the ballroom and you followed. Spotting the mistletoe that was loosely hanging above right where he conveniently halted your dance.

“I guess it’s nice that you’re still intrigued by human festivities.”

“Well I’d say more than that has piqued my interest. Happy Holidays MC.”

“Happy Holidays Lilia.”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Sebek is…Sebek, he would not know what to with himself. Let alone feel as if it was appropriate to participate in such a thing, especially not in a public setting where Malleus could see him! The thought makes him want to die of shame, yet he’s still not fully opposed to the idea. He supposes it would be nice to be intimate with you. Only once though, and only in private! So that’s the reason as to why he so suddenly pulled you away from any watching eyes at the ball. Firmly placing you across from him to sit down in a secluded study of sorts.

“Now that I’ve made sure my arm is still attached to my body, you wanna tell me why we’re here.”

“Of course! Simply put I wanted to share something..intimate! With you! And I couldn’t rightly do that in front of my master's eyes! Or anyone else for that matter!”

“With me?” Curious yet flustered, you avert your eyes to start scanning around the room. Your question was quickly answered seeing the hastily put together red and green bundle hanging from the ceiling.

“Ah, I see you’ve caught on. Well then *ahem* would you do me the honor…MC?” The green haired man, despite standing upright and proper, had a nervous shake about him. Trying his best to offer a fidgeting hand towards you. The gesture was adorable so without a second thought you placed your hands on his and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, followed by another on the cheek.

“You’re always so sweet in your own way, I appreciate the effort Sebek.”

“Thank you MC! I suppose..”

~~~~~~~~~🎄~~~~~~~~

Silver is extremely casual about the whole thing, he strikes me as someone who has an abundance of confidence despite his demeanor. Also thanks to being raised by you know who of course. The sleepy guy is very knowledgeable about all those Christmas time activities so he just figures, why not. If he got to share a sweet moment with you, then it’s something worth trying. Plus he may or may not have been heavily encouraged by a certain bat fae.

“Good evening MC, you look very nice tonight.”

“Well look who’s wide awake, thank you Silver.”

“Barely, I was prepping for tonight by napping as much as I could. I didn’t want to miss you after all.” He explains letting out a small yawn.

“I also wanted to ask you something. Think you could meet me outside?” You follow suit as he leads the way to outside of the dorm. From there he guides you to sit down next to him under a familiar tree he seems to comfortably lean against.

“It’s cold out here.”

“You can take my jacket for a second, we won’t be long.” His hands remain on your shoulders after he places the jacket around you.

“I remembered how when I was younger my father would tell me stories about lovers who shared a kiss under the mistletoe around this time of year. I would like to do the same with you, only if you’ll have me.”

That’s when you heard the small squeaks and scampering of woodland creatures approaching you two. The cutest little squirrel descends from the tree holding the same festive plant from his mouth over both your heads. The moment was so fairytale like, you figured Silver took those stories more literally than you thought. You couldn’t deny the expectant glint in his eyes however, while you two snuggled closer

“Hm, of course.”

He gently placed a hand on your jaw carefully pulling in until your lips met in a sweet kiss. It was delicate yet deep, and you both melted into it until the need to breath took over.

“Thank you MC, I’m glad that worked out so well.” He yawned, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“Hey, a kiss is supposed to wake you up, not make you fall back to sleep!”

“Well you’re always full of surprises, and very comfortable. Merry Christmas MC.”

“Merry Christmas Silver.”

245 notes · View notes

talesofthepinktape · 2 months ago

Text

taking my pookie @waiting-so-long in my Battinson verse OC ramblings. Errr, babes, in case you haven't seen The Batman with Robert Pattinson then sorry that you have to sit through my ramblings lol...

Anyways...

General potential warnings: Riddler being a soft/mild yandere who stalks my OC Eden, Eden (as of now) not being the most active or thought-out female character but that's alright because she's in ~development~

Just imagining Eden, a girl from the poorer areas of Gotham whose mother was a maid for the Waynes. Her mother would bring Eden along on days where her mother couldn't afford a babysitter (...which was quite often.) Both kids were quiet and awkward; they were not quite friends but did not quite despising each other either. When Bruce awkwardly shoves flowers into her hands on her birthday, Eden shrugs and keeps them. When they inevitably die out, she presses them into books. When Eden slides a handmade bracelet on his wrist, Bruce flushes and mutters his thanks. He never takes it off.

Bruce's mother comes to him one day... says that Eden and her mom won't be coming around anymore. That Eden's mom was in an accident and passed away. The bracelet stays on his wrist.

Eden is shipped off to the next orphanage before she can blink... thirty kids crammed to a room and she catches the eye of a quiet boy who likes riddles. She couldn't keep all her books, but she has the ones with flowers pressed into them.

Time goes on... Bruce still thinks of the quiet girl with wide eyes and a bundle of bright flowers in her grip. Thinks of the girl who slid a beaded bracelet on his wrist with a shy smile. The bracelet sits on the table by his bed. Eden doesn't have time to think of anything that isn't bills, bills, bills...

(She lost some of the books, but a couple still remain.)

Maybe they bump into each other while getting coffee, or at the same park. Maybe they start to reconnect, but Bruce knows he has to become something else to keep Gotham safe. And he thinks of Eden--pictures the girl with the comforting smile and the warmth despite the coldness of Gotham--and can't risk her getting involved. Being put in danger.

He pushes her away and becomes the Batman. Maybe sometimes at night he'll linger outside her workplace (whichever crappy job she's scrounged up this time to cover her bills) to make sure she gets home alright. The bracelet's still by his bed.

And maybe he gets so lost in it, that Bruce fades into Batman... two entities blending together and the vigilante taking forefront. But maybe Batman remembers Bruce after seeing Eden... maybe she's in the kitchen of the mayor's home, shock blanket draped over her shoulders and eyes red with tears after discovering the mayor's body ("She was babysitting his kid," Gordon tells him with an empathetic frown.) Or maybe she's a waitress at Penguin's club, sliding into his office to deliver money with a smile. Despite Penguin being so sleazy, there's a warmth as they exchange quiet words and small smiles.

Regardless, he remembers her... he remembers her gentleness and her sweetness. And in a way, he thinks of her as the embodiment of why he does this--a bright light stepped on by the darkness of Gotham. A kind soul manipulated and mistreated by the criminals, someone who needs a fighter in the shadows to get justice and to fight for her.

(Maybe he puts her on a pedestal. Maybe Bruce, in his cold, lonely, bleak life, remembers the stars in her eyes and thinks he sees a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe when he reflects, urges himself to push on and keep trying to make Gotham better, it's because he remembers her persevering through it all and wants to make Gotham better for her.)

And on the flip side, the quiet boy with the riddles in Eden's orphanage grows up to get some accounting job. In that orphanage (thirty kids to a room), he never really spoke to Eden. But he still remembered her kindness to the other children... soothing younger ones, coaxing shyer ones into eating. She'd get pushed around and made fun of by the crueler kids, but she still held firm in helping out the less fortunate orphans. Some days Edward thinks he might've loved her, at least a little bit. As best he could.

He grows up, and Eden grows up. Their paths diverge, but often he goes back to the girl with the heart too big for that cold, cruel orphanage. He writes about her in his journals, his visions for a better Gotham featuring her by his side.

And when he spots her, a waitress at his favorite cafe? Internally, he jumps for joy. She doesn't recognize him, or if she does she hides it. But remembers her... so much about her. He comes there quite a bit, doing a poor job at hiding his loving gazes. He stammers when talking to her, flushes and fiddles with his fingers but she never judges. Just smiles warmly. He always leaves a five-dollar tip, and he's one of Eden's favorite regulars because of it.

He follows her home one night, discreetly and quietly. When he finds her place, he begins slipping little notes into her mailbox. Nothing bad, just some riddles based around love.

Edward becomes the Riddler, but he still thinks of her. Still remembers why he does this. So that people like Eden--the kind, generous girl who gave so much and asked for nothing in return--can overcome and triumph over those rich corrupt bastards who sit and laugh from their ivory towers.

(And no maybes, Edward... the Riddler puts Eden on a pedestal. She doesn't know him, not yet. But she will. And he'll rip down the city brick by brick, rebuild Gotham to his liking and present to her. His light, his angel, his darling. He will make Gotham better for her and for everyone like her who has struggled because of them.)

I don't know... just Eden Carter, this orphan scratching and clawing through each day with a heart she struggles to keep kind. But she still tries to extend a hand and help when she can. And in the process, she becomes the light of a certain bat-themed vigilante and the love of a riddle-obsessed serial killer.

#m's thoughts #my babbles #will probs delete later this is bad lol #tabs so sorry you have to sit through my rambles #ilyyyyy

2 notes · View notes

capri-ramblings · 4 years ago

Note

Ruggie Bucchi x male reader Angst? (it's ok if you're uncomfortable, you can put neutral reader in here! ^^) Reader confess their feeling to ruggie but ruggie reject reader feelings and say sharp words towards the reader. Time passes and ruggie starts to develop feelings toward the reader and starts to regret what he did. I hope it's not too much to ask for this!

This was too long I have to make a separate post for Part 2 lmao but I hope you love this as much I loved working on it even when angst isn't my best skill 😩💖

[A Hyena's Nip] Part 1

Ruggie always kinda knew you had a thing for him. It was in the glances you stole at him when you thought he couldn't see, in every good morning smile you gave to him each time you passed him in-between classes. You also always seemed so... flustered whenever he came near you, but if he was being honest, it didn't bother him all that much.

He did find it a bit weird though, cause he was a guy and you were a guy and there's like a lot of other guys out there that you could be crushing on and honestly, you looked like the clingy type too. The same type of clingy Ruggie always wanted to avoid in girls.

So,it didn't came as a surprise when you went and confessed to him after club activities, telling him how much you liked him and stuff, but it still kinda took him off guard. Ruggie wasn't actually expecting you to pour out your feelings, well, he was hoping that you weren't going to because if he had to be honest,this situation you put him in was very awkward.

He didn't like guys as much as he didn't like girls and not because he doesn't have those kind of urges but because he finds the whole 'i like you,you like me,let's date!' relationship kinda pointless, and time consuming.

You were a good kid though. Ever since you came and got stuck in this school, you always made an effort to lend a hand to anyone who needed it, and there was that time when Leona almost turned his hand into nothing more than dust particles and you practically threw yourself in front of him to stop that from happening. He was grateful, of all the people present then, he wasn't expecting you to come and save him.

Staring down at you now, with your head lowered as your hands fiddled with the hem of your gym wear, Ruggie felt bad that he was going to reject you flat out and he wasn't going to be nice about it too, cause chances are you'll tell him it's okay and that being friends is just enough and when has that actually worked out well for both parties? No. You weren't going to be okay and being friends after telling someone that big of a secret isn't a good story.

He was doing you a favour. Yeah, you'll be down about it, but there's literally a bunch of guys out there other than him. You'll move on and get over him quick. All Ruggie had to do was give you that first push. Even if you'd scrap your knee from it.

"I really,really like you, Ruggie and I know this sounds weird seeing that we're both guys but—"

"But what?" Ruggie cut you off before you could finish and all the nerves you were trying to not acknowledge immediately came washing over you as you saw Ruggie's expression shifted into annoyance.

"If you know that this is weird, what were you expecting? Some kind of fairytale to happen?"

He sounded so harsh despite his voice barely budging, and the words he threw at you made your skin cold. Was he mad? Did you actually went and made Ruggie mad? You were hesitant at first to use this opportunity of the two of you being alone to cleanup after club activities to confess to him, but was it a bad move?

"I,well,I...um.." You tried to speak but your words seemed too far away now and instinctively you averted Ruggie's gaze.

This was a mess. An absolute nightmare. And as if it couldn't get any worst, Ruggie started laughing. He started laughing and you could feel your existence cave in on you.

"Man,look at you! You actually did think some kind of lovey-dovey scenario was going to play out, didn't you?"

One of the things you always found attractive about Ruggie was his laugh. It never failed to make you feel better about a bad situation. But as the realization dawned on you that the same laugh was being used to condescend you...You wanted to cover your ears and run away. If only you could though, it was hard to move when your knees felt like buckling down.

"Hey,answer me." Ruggie nudged you in the shoulder and you winced. "Did you think I was going to feel the same?"

No. Of course not. You had a feeling this was going to happen, you kept denying it but it was often there lingering in the back of your mind. You only hoped for a mutual feeling from Ruggie.

"I'm sorry." You muttered out,lips quivering and eyes burning from the tears you fought back. Your throat felt dry and your chest hurt. Scratch that, your heart felt like it fucking stopped and you regretted ever thinking Ruggie would like you.

"What? Now, you're apologizing?" Ruggie sounded frustrated and looking at you trembling from the rejection kinda ticked him off somehow. Were you really a boy if something as simple as a crush got you all teary eyed?

"Look, I don't know what you were expecting from this whole confession thing, but the bottom line here is that I don't like you that way, and I probably never would." He placed a casual hand on your shoulder then, giving you a slight shake before he pulled away and turned on his heels, his hands folded behind his neck.

"So,just drop it okay? See ya around,kid."

The sound of Ruggie's voice along with the light steps he left behind felt too distant for you to actually hear, but the weight of it all, the rejection and hurt that swelled inside you then, seemed too real to be just a simple nightmare.

As you stood there, motionlessly staring at the ground, you felt your heart shattered in your chest, the bits and pieces of its shards prickling into your flesh.

***

"Hey,____!" Deuce was waving his hand in front of your face, his brows furrowed when you looked up at him all dazed and distant.

"You weren't even listening were you?"

"...Sorry,Deuce. I was thinking."

"And here I thought thinking would only hurt Deuce that way but I guess you guys do share a brain cell after all,huh?" Ace was smirking when he said this, obviously pleased with the reaction he got from Deuce who all but scowled at him.

Another class had ended today, and still, you weren't sure you even heard anything that went on throughout each lesson. Ever since your confession, your headspace had been slightly off. It's like you couldn't even go to your own thoughts without replaying Ruggie's words.

You planted your head on your table with a dull thud and both Ace and Deuce looked to you worryingly.

"You look kinda sick,dude. What about you just skip classes for today?"

"Ace, skipping classes will only get him into trouble"

"What are you? His mom?"

Deuce frowned but turned to you instead, staring at you as if he was trying to read your defeated form, and though you knew well enough that neither one of them would know the reason behind your dispirited self, the fear of them actually finding out still bothered you.

So when you lifted your head, you forced on a smile even when the simple gesture felt like tearing off parts of your own skin.

"I'm fine guys,stop worrying or you're really gonna start looking like my mom."

"Yikes" Ace grimaced. "Definitely not letting that happen,no offense. I'm sure your mom's pretty decent"

Deuce was touching his face when he shook his head and crossed his arms. He still looked worried and unconvinced, and it was starting to give you a churning feeling in your stomach.

"Still,I think you should get some early rest today. You look too pale and your eyes are super red. Didn't you get any sleep?"

No. No you didn't. You spent most of your nights staring blankly at your ceiling while your chest throbbed against your ribcages. You couldn't sleep because whenever you did you heard Ruggie's laugh mocking you and then you'd see him glowering down at you like you were the most disgusting thing he's ever seen.

You heaved a shaky sigh, trying so desperately to keep up your smile despite your voice cracking slightly when you spoke.

"It's nothing,really."

Deuce still frowned,but he let the subject go and the three of you spent the remaining day in various classes as usual before school day ended, and you were heading back to your dorms.

"You could stay and hang with us for a bit, bet Riddle wouldn't mind if we told him you were coming over?" Deuce sent you a sympathetic smile, as if somehow despite how dense you thought he was he knew something wasn't right with you, and for a minute, you wondered then why you hadn't fell for Deuce instead. Maybe he wouldn't have been so harsh.

"Thank,Deuce, but Grim stayed behind today cause he claimed one of the ghosts punched him too hard while they were playing and I think having too much alone time for him would be bad"

Deuce laughed and nodded his head.

"See ya around then, Mr. Prefect"

"Yeah. See ya."

The walk back to Ramshackle Dorm felt like an eternity, and as you placed one foot in front of the other, each step heavy and reluctant, you were beginning to wonder if you'll ever get there without passing out. It's been like this for almost a month now. You were eating lesser each passing day too, which didn't really help your already lethargic self. But every food you ate tasted stale, every small thing you did made you too tired and nothing really meant much point to you now. It all seemed so dull, so terribly agonizing. And all because you believed in that stupid dream of yours where Ruggie Bucchi would return your feelings.

You let out a self degrading laugh before rolling your eyes and gritting your teeth.

"What a dumbass" You said, speaking to yourself. "He's right you know, did I really think he was gonna sweep me up in his arms and say he liked me too? What a load of bullshit."

You stopped, shoulders slumping as the air you tried breathing in turned cold and hard to swallow.

How pathetic did you looked to him then? You couldn't help but wonder. Did he feel weirded out? Disgusted? Did he went back and told Leona and made it their joke of the day? The thoughts spiralled you back to square one and suddenly your throat burned.

Staggering to the closest bush, you fell to your knees and began to throw up.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst wonderland angst #twst ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #male reader insert #ruggie x reader

172 notes · View notes

dokuhai · 4 years ago

Note

After asking GODKILLER about how Gin would act as a parent, I have to hear about the other half! How would Rangiku (with Gin) act as a parent?

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 but now that I’m off of my hiatus I hope you don’t mind me answering!!! Branching off of Godkilller’s response to how Gin would act as a parent, it’s important to also consider how Rangiku’s lifestyle and priorities would greatly shift if she were to become a mother.

———

Firstly, I think it’s worth mentioning that there isn’t any potential for my Rangiku getting pregnant until after the Blood War, when Soul Society has finally entered into a time of peace. @godkilller and I developed a canon-divergent verse a while back that ultimately comes into fruition after their bond has strengthened beyond anything we’ve seen in canon. There are no longer any secrets between them, and Rangiku’s trust in Gin has been fully restored.

So much of Rangiku’s personal growth can be attributed to Gin’s initial betrayal, as well as the Winter War ( and the events that unfolded after the war was over. ) Her entire world was flipped upside down when Gin defected. She went through incredibly low moments riddled with self-doubt, that ultimately pushed her further into a state of alcoholism. SHE BURIED HERSELF IN BOOZE —— anything and everything that could distract her from Gin’s betrayal, and the fact that she would eventually have to face him as an enemy on the battlefield.

When Aizen was defeated, Gin was on the brink of death —- fading in and out of consciousness in Rangiku’s arms. The idea of losing him completely is a fear that has never truly left her, even after Gin had recovered in Soul Society and was pardoned for his crimes. ( small easter egg being my verse name for Gin’s survival — “these new fears ; i carry with me (v.)” ) Rangiku was forced to grow up quickly, taking on the role of a caregiver and provider while Gin struggled with chronic illness and attempted to recover in spite of the wounds Aizen inflicted upon him. DRINKING TOOK A BACKSEAT, as well as partying and shirking away from the responsibilities she held as Lieutenant of the 10th Division. Suddenly Rangiku was doing everything she could ( and then some ) to get the Gotei 13 back on their feet. At the same time, she was dealing with an INCREDIBLE amount of backlash from her friends and the shinigami population at large about her continued relationship with Gin.

Rangiku knew what it felt like to hear her name within rumors and gossip in the past —— but this was something else entirely. The amount of hate spewed in her general direction for harboring a war criminal and continuing to stand beside him was something she wouldn’t wish on ANYONE … however she also grew so much because of it. Rangiku THREW herself into her work as a way of showing her colleagues that she was still on their side. Despite avoiding the angry gazes and awful insults that were practically spat into her face every day, her avoidant nature could only take so much … patience would truly begin to wear thin surrounding Gin’s dishonesty. Eventually she would demand answers, and Gin would find a way to provide them ——— ultimately resulting in these two finally having a chance to mend their broken bond, and heal.

———

ALL OF THIS TO SAY THAT RANGIKU IS, IN FACT, MOTHER-MATERIAL POST-BLOOD WAR. She knows how to balance her responsibilities, and her communication with Gin has strengthened considerably. She doesn’t bottle up her emotions anymore ( or, well, as much as she used to ) nor does she try to drink them away. So when those little lines on her pregnancy test appear, signifying that she’s expecting, Rangiku is SO much more prepared to share her life with a little bundle of joy.

Having a child is something that Rangiku’s always dreamed of, but never talked about or felt truly ready for. It was always a ‘maybe one day’ thing in her mind ------ something that could happen when she no longer wanted to drink away her sorrows, or dance the night away and stumble back home in the early hours of the morning. Rangiku has matured considerably by the time she’s expecting post-Blood War; Gin has already put a ring on it, and they��ve been enjoying married life for quite a while before embarking on their next adventure into parenthood.

So how would she be as a mother? PATIENT. LOVING … ACCEPTING. A bit overbearing, at first. She would dote on her child so much —— attempting to cook more ( despite her food tasting terrible ) and involve herself in her child’s activities as much as seemingly possible. Rangiku is that mom that goes to ALL of the soccer / tee-ball / cheerleading / tap-dancing practices and cheers from the sidelines. She’s the mom bringing cupcakes to the fundraising event that taste awful, but all of the other parents and kids pretend to be grateful for her contribution.

Rangiku would most likely have a hard time letting go in the first few years of her daughter’s life, out of fear that something could happen while she wasn’t looking. This is a direct result of her OWN upbringing ( or lack thereof ) and the events that transpired in her past. Rangiku wants her daughter to never struggle, or want for anything. She would most likely spoil Keiko rotten until she learns to let up a bit.

Something I’ve always loved about Rangiku is her ability to tell it like it is, and to offer tough love to her friends when they need it. This would translate beautifully into her relationship with her daughter, especially during those terrible teen years. Despite doting on her daughter and always doing what she can to offer Keiko a better life, Rangiku knows when to put her foot down. She also respects the advice Gin gives to Keiko, and his own way of parenting. What a cute little family, eh? Plus, Rangiku is MORE than ready to talk boys, outfits, and makeup when Keiko is older~ ; )

#shirenui144 #ask ; answered #headcanon ( rangiku. )#THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS AAAAAA SORRY IT'S SO LATE!!

6 notes · View notes

jvdetan · 4 years ago

Text

BEVERLY CENTER BREAKDOWN

with a shrill scream into the phone’s receiver, 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 could feel white hot tears threatening to spill. getting even more angry at the potential of messing up her makeup. “how could you do this to me? this is so f— this is so embarrassing!” she screamed hysterically, throwing all of her items on the counter and storming out of the store and the shopping center.

the day was supposed to be like any other of 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄’s shopping days, and for the most part it was. she began the day with her favorite drink from starbucks, sitting in the café with her drink for a few hours just scrolling through twitter or instagram while taking in the ambiance of the place. every three weeks, she would go to the spa around 11am and have a mud bath, facial, and full body wax if she felt she needed it. things were going as planned, and even down to the occasional text from whatever guy she found herself entertaining from tinder that day, she was in ecstasy. the self care day was much needed, especially with her birthday coming up and all the stresses of trying to plan for it.

after her spa treatment, she found herself trying to decide if she wanted to get her nails done, and deciding if she did she would just stop in the place in the BEVERLY CENTER while she shopped. she’d made it through four stores: target, louis vuitton, sephora, and burberry—with virtually no problem, it’s important to note. she was on the phone with one of her close friends the entire time, practically giving her a play by play of everything she saw in the shops and even asking her which pieces of clothing or bags she should purchase.

it was going on 2pm when the femme casually strolled into BALENCIAGA, airpods still in her ears as she maneuvered the store and decided if she wanted any of the newest season’s shoes. after picking up a cute little black handbag, hoodie, and a fur coat, she made her way to the cashier to pay, not even looking up at the clerk as she handed her card over. she was supposed to have around $250,000 on that card at any given time, and while she was sure she’d spent a little bit more than $110,000 that day, she should have still had more than enough to get these few things and be on her way. so when the cashier handed her card back, she instinctively went to put it away and grab her bag, to which the cashier put her hand on jade’s wrist.

“um, ma’am, your card declined. it says you have insufficient funds.” she said firmly, and 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 immediately rolled her neck back and tilted the sunglasses she wore to look at the woman closer.

“try it again, maybe the machine’s faulty.” she said with pursed lips and a nod, her impatience already starting to get the best of her and raising exponentially when the clerk tried the card again and didn’t say anything, just turning the screen to show 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄—and everyone in line behind her, she felt—that her card declined once again. with a strained nervous chuckle, she fished her other card from her mini purse and handed it to the woman, who took it with a bright smile and swiped it. ��yeah, i know i have the funds on th—” upon getting the same response from this card, the clerk, still trying to be positive, raised a brow and shook her head.

“no, sorry. it says declined as well. if you’d like to step out of line to figure out the issue with your bank, you’re more than welcome and we’ll save your spot.” 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄‘s blood ran cold. it couldn’t be. was she having a problem with identity theft? what if someone had drained her accounts. what would she tell her parents? no, that couldn’t be it.

“no, let’s try this register over here. that one has to be busted.” she laughed nervously, a thick tension in the air as she stood in front of the other register. her eye slightly twitched as she handed the woman both of her cards once again, her hand shaking a bit when the first one said it declined once again. she was clenching her teeth so hard, she was afraid they’d shatter from the pressure. but when that second card declined, 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 started to hear and feel her heart beating in her ears. things started to move slowly.

without another word, she stayed in her spot and called her bank. after going through the automated tone to get to a representative and talking for a moment, her heart dropped to her stomach. it was much, much worse than identity theft.

“what the FUCK do you mean all my accounts are frozen? do you know who i— my parents?! no, you’ve got it wr—” she frustratedly hung up the phone in the bank representative’s face, clenching her teeth and offering the cashier another soft smile that poorly masked the rage flowing through her body. while looking her in the eye and still demanding her attention, stopping the flow of foot traffic to those registers, she phoned her father.

“hey sunshine. we thought you’d b—”

“what happened to the money on my card?” her voice was quiet and sinister. she needed to get straight to the point, because her entire body felt like it was on fire.

“well, there is no more. of course, i wanted you to have your last little shopping day, but i’ve been watching your card activity just slowly climb and i had t—”

“YOU DID THIS?!” her voice was on 10 right then. she was yelling, her face hot from anger and sheer embarrassment. the people in the store thought she was a broke ass scammer all because they thought she was spending too much. “you’ve been watching my activity? just put a chip in my arm why don’t you?”

earning a scoff from andrew, he let out a sigh. “don’t be dramatic. just come hom—”

“why on earth would i want to come home are my parents have publicly embarrassed me? riddle me that...” she trailed off, taking a deep breath before taking on another, more pleading tone. “just put the money back so i can make this last purchase. please, dad.” she begged, but andrew was firm in his decision it seemed.

“i’m sorry, baby. i can’t. you’ve been cut off.” if she was made of glass, she would have shattered into billions of pieces as soon as those words left his mouth.

“cu— what? i—you.... cutting me off? does mom know?” she questioned harshly, not knowing whether she was sad, angry, or both.

“her signature is right next to mine on the contract,”

“what? what contract?”

andrew shifted in his seat a moment, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “we’ve signed you up for an intervention of sorts. you just blow through money without regard, and we really want to put a stop to it. it’s like you’re insatiable.” he explained softly, but 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 was not having it. she felt betrayed and humiliated. she was already pushing the card reader away from her, knocking it on the ground as she finally replied to her father. she was tapping her foot to try and avoid bursting into tears; it wasn’t working.

“i can’t fuc— why are you doing this to me?” she asked, more to herself than to her parents. looking around the store, seeing all the products just worsened her enraged state.

and of course, no sooner than she hopped into the car, the video someone had taken of her freaking out in the mall had been sent around and had over one hundred thousand views on youtube. and of course, just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, an incoming text from her mother made her hold her head against the steering wheel.

from MOM: your flight leaves tomorrow. come finish packing. it’s gonna be a while before you come back.

@sghqs

#❥ ❛甘えるᵀᴴᴱ𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓❜ ➛ 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒

3 notes · View notes

the-wiresmarvelau · 4 years ago

Text

T.H.E. W.I.R.E.S.

Peter and his Friends are allowed to design the compound and couldn’t help but riddle it with secret tunels and hallways. While Peter installs said hallways he makes some new acquaintences who he has to help and gets help from.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Chapter 2: Dramatic enterance No. 1

The prisoner took a deep breath, closed his eyes and concentrated.

Concentrated on his knees and legs; tucked away underneath the weight of his torso.

Concentrated on his shoulders; tense and raised up to his ears.

Concentrated on his forehead and nose; laying on the insufferably warm stone floor.

Concentrated on the pain, pulsating in his black left eye and on the ripping, burning agony emanating from his lips, tong and cheeks; sewn together with silver wires and chains; embroidered to look like a wide, cruel silver grin.

"A silver chain to bind a silver tong" Odin had said while watching as the young, terrified guard pulled the wires through Loki’s parted lips.

The young man had shaken all over and rambled on about how stupid it was of him to mention to his peers that he liked to sew, then he wouldn't be punished for ‘enjoying a girl's job’.

All the while the prisoner beneath him glared at the allfather, determined not to cry out in pain and to stay in the present…

Because otherwise his head would bring him back in time to a scene oh so similar to this one.

Only that he hadn't been bound by chains then but by a dwarf, standing on his calf’s and hands, pushing down his shoulders.

The hands sewing his mouth shut hadn't shaken then.

He hammered his head against the floor, with a frustrated grunt.

These memories kept distracting him from the only chance, of preventing to collect more of them.

Loki wanted to scream in frustration but knew it would do more harm than good.

So, he took a couple deep breaths to calm down and began to concentrate again.

He concentrated on the hot stone against his shins and the top of his feet; And on the bruises all over his legs and sides, most of them either strained or compressed by his folded position on the floor.

Concentrated on the heat in the cuts and abrasions on his back. Loki still hadn't figured out when exactly he would be beaten; the periods of peace between the beatings where too irregular to follow a pattern.

Concentrated on his throat and the feeling of dry air grating through it with every breath he took; like sandpaper over chalk.

He concentrated on every fibre of his being looking for the small, tiny bits of magic he held; gathered it in a bundle just below his sternum and - when he felt like he had mustered up almost everything he had left - he began to channel it in a shallow rivulet and pushed it.

Pushed it up his chest, down his right arm into his wrist and from there: past the handcuffs that had until a few days ago, not only suppressed all of his ability to rebuild his own magic, but also kept him separated from his power’s origin and made him numb, blind even, to the magical streams, he knew were all around him.

But the guards had been sloppy.

One of the whip strokes had caught on his handcuffs and carved a small notch in the metal of his restraints. Just big enough to allow his magic to regenerate the tiniest fraction of his original power.

Not powerful enough to heal the numerus wounds Odin’s... "audiences" left behind. But sufficient, to ... say.. Send an illusion to his mother dearest.

Adopted or not, he loved her more than anything and he needed her to know what her husband was really doing to him over the past few years in the dungeons.

She was still under the impression that his punishment was simply isolation and had even send him a few books, which Odin had ripped apart and burned before his very eyes.

But before he could visit Frigga, he needed a plan.

During the time he had magic available again, he had tried to find out more about the Avengers, he had encountered back then on Midgard.

It would be the last place the other Gods would look, as his crimes there were the newest. But that didn’t mean hiding anywhere else was easier.

Additionally: Midgardians were far stricter regarding what did and did not count as a crime; while that might not sound advantageous to his cause, regarding that he had killed several dozen Midgardians. But by treating their prisoner much worse than was agreed upon, his captors violated those morals too. Thus, justifying a relocation.

Since the Avengers called themselves heroes, they probably had the moral compass to see it that way.

But for some reason, they seemed to have splintered and were preoccupied with what seemed to be the aftermath of whatever had divided them.

While he searched for others who might be able to help, the ravenette stumbled over a promising individual.

"Spider-Man" he called himself.

From what he'd gathered, the spider themed hero wasn't an Avenger but he had a close bond to Stark.

Otherwise, Ironman wouldn't've shown up, mere minutes after the aforementioned spider had been stabbed in the side, to bring him to the tower personally.

He also didn't kill any of the criminals he encountered and seemed repelled by it; rather trying to talk them into seeing their wrongdoings and changing their ways.

Additionally, he probably didn’t have a personal reason to dislike Loki; While the Avengers might still hold a grudge against him because of what happened with the Chitauri and the thing on the hellicarrier.

All in all, the spider seemed to be his best chance.

His only chance.

Keeping that in mind Loki focused on creating an illusion of himself on a, more or less random, roof within the young hero’s territory.

Since he wanted to be recognised, he gave the illusion the armour he had worn during the battle of New York, minus all the golden parts.

That way the boy could recognise him from pictures more easily, but he didn't look like he was going in for a fight.

He didn't bother to conceal the glowing that would give away the illusion’s nature. It was best to play his cards open, if he wanted to be trusted.

But he masked his black eye and other injuries.

His goal wasn't pity and his pride kept him from showing such vulnerability to a stranger.

The Jotun was aware though, that he might be forced to reveal his physical state; either as prof for the mistreatment or because changing his appearance drained a bit more magic than simply projecting himself.

And just like that, he waited.

It didn’t take long until he could see the kid swinging around. Loki tried not to turn around as the hero swung by.

Had he seriously not noticed him?

Normally the boy seemed to be automatically drawn to anything odd happening in his vicinity; did an illusion not register?

Giving in to his desire to look around just the tiniest bit, he turned his head a little to the side.

Relief flushed over him as he saw a red silhouette on a nearby roof in his periphery vision.

Spiderman looked at him. That meant that he had noticed the god.

Now he had to hope that their conversation would go well.

“KAREN..? activate ’don’t tell mom Protocol’ please”

‘Are you sure Peter? Whoever that is could mean you harm’ KAREN objected.

The worry in her voice sounded so real that the boy had to remind himself that she wasn’t, in fact, human.

“I’m sure,” he replied; sounding anything but. “If they wanted to hurt me my Spidey-sense would warn me about it”

‘Alright. Just remember that I am calling Mr. Stark the moment they touch you’

Peter couldn’t help but smile a little at how protective she sounded.

He began running over the roofs in the direction of the green shining figure.

They didn’t turn around when the hero arrived on their roof; They just lowered their head and brought their hands to the back, the palms turned up to be visible.

Even though the teenager wasn’t familiar with such behavioural customs, he understood that it was meant to show that they didn’t want to seem threatening and wouldn’t be the one to initiate this conversation.

“Excuse me?..” the younger one started, cringing at how childish he sounded.” Do I know you?”

Great. If he was wrong and this was a stranger, he had just made himself sound like a creep. And even if this was Loki, he couldn’t say that he knew him.

“You might have heard of me” The ravenette answered.

Slowly he dared to turn around; still carefully telegraphing his every move but conscious to make his movement seem graceful and smooth.

“Yeah, one could say that. You’re Mr. Loki, right? Thor’s brother?”

The addressee gave a single nod, taking the chance to bring up his head a bit.

He didn’t like to be personified over his adoptive brother, but rather Thor being the first association than the destruction he had caused while under the influence of Thanos.

“I thought you were grounded, for like.. forever?” the boy asked curiously; tilting his head to the side.

“How fortunate, then that this is only an illusion” Loki replied. He had seen the other one sassing pretty much everyone he had come across and hoped that mirroring that would make him more likable.

Otherwise, he would be screwed, because that was how he was used to speak and to change the way you speak long-term is tiresome.

But there seemed to be no need to.

“That explains so much. But what about the distance! Isn’t Asgard really far away? Or does that not affect illusions? ... Doesn’t matter right now! What is your illusion here for? I assume it`s not just to enjoy the view.”

The Jotun almost bit his lip, before registering that that was not a good idea in his current state.

“I’m here to ask a favour. -Or rather for help.” In that moment he regretted that he hadn’t led into this talk with a prepared speech. Asking for help was difficult.

“For you as in your people? Or you as an individual?” The Spider powered teenager asked, cautiously.

‘And I messed up.’ The Jotun thought ‘Of course he wouldn’t want to help me’

But the Midgardian continued before Loki could answer.

“I’m just asking, cause if it’s something all of you can’t handle, I wouldn’t know what I could do about it. Mr Stark would be a much greater help with that kinda thing.” He was about to continue on but shut himself up.

His teachers hated it when he just rambled on, and the face before him showed too little emotion to figure out if that was the case here, too. Better safe than sorry.

That was not what the trickster had expected.

“It’s not that kind of problem. And I doubt the Ironman would even be willing to hear me out, no matter what I’d have to say.” It was worded as a statement but the prisoner’s raised eyebrow seemed to ask for conformation.

“Yeaah.. You might be right on this one. He tends to hold on to grudges. But we’re working on it! He-..Anyways what can I help you with?” The young heroes body language changed like a boomerang from shy and embarrassed to excitedly proud and back to shy again.

If his conversational partner hadn’t been so utterly exhausted, he would have noticed how often he had cut himself of in this little time alone.

“Right. You see, the whole being .. ‘grounded’ as you described, it.. isn’t actually this. Harmless.”

The shorter tilted his head to the side and the lenses in his mask did a creepily good job at conveying a mix of scepticism and confusion.

“I know this sound unwarranted considering what happened. A-nd I wouldn’t be here if it was only the lifetime in prison that was agreed upon b-but.. It isn’t”

his voice broke and the image flickered, revealing the true appearance of the magician projecting it.

Curled on the ground with dried blood and open wounds covering almost every inch of his back and shoulders.

He had lost concentration a bit as memories and sensations washed over him for a second. Threatening to take over his thinking but he managed to push back.

This was his only chance.

He couldn’t mess up now. Now that somebody seemed to listen.. to care.

When he had gathered himself and looked up, He saw the eyes of the mask before him, wide with shock, and the body beneath it stiff.

Frozen in time.

The prisoner tried to make his image smile.

But it was drenched in dread and sadness. And his body froze; resembling the boy in front of his eyes.

Slowly, the stiffness in Peters body seemed to melt.

A finger twitched.

His arm began to inch upwards, while his shoulders began to sag.

The second arm wrapped itself around his waist, plucking at his suit subconsciously.

And, in a move that surprised even himself, the brunette pulled down his mask. Clutching it in his fist as if his life depended on it.

Peter didn’t care about KAREN`s protests right now.

He needed the god to understand, to know. That he believed him.

The Spidey-sense still hadn’t made an appearance, even though it normally alerted him to anything directly threatening him including his secret identity. *

Like pulling his mask of while people who might tell on him could see.

But he was either too absorb in what was happening or Loki just.. didn’t pose a threat whatsoever.

The god of mischief before him couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

How could a genuine superhero, for which paranoia and distrust seemed to come with the profession, trust him enough to reveal his otherwise hidden identity.

Just like that.

One of his titles literally was god of lies.

“I need somewhere to stay.” He whispered after a few beats of silence “somewhere I can rest.. And serve the rest of my sentence. Without – Odin, finding me.”. He didn’t bother to move his image’s lips.

The spider teen still needed to wrap his head everything while also trying to find a solution for this situation.

“Riiight... Uhm-..there’s uhh. Maybeishould.. no - he wouldn’t” It really didn’t help that to his already frantic thoughts, his super sense started to act up now; Telling him to PUT ON THAT MASK and TURN RIGHT.

He let out an irritated huff before following his instincts.

“Okay. I-I’ll figure that out. D-“

‘If I could remind you who you’re talking to. It may be in your best interest to hand over those matters to SHIELD or Mr. Stark.” KAREN chimed in.

“Not right now KAREN, I’ve got this. Mr. Loki, do you know how to get here? Because I have no idea how to get to Asgard let alone free you. Finding a hideout should be easier.”

His answer was a nod and after a beat of silence: “I should be able to contact . my mother in a few days. If I am correct she does not know of my treatment and will bring me here.”

Loki had carefully observed the Midgardian’s behaviour. Something to his right must have distracted him, for he turned his head that way before putting on his mask again. But there hadn’t been any movement nor was there anything attention-grabbing; just the roof and more buildings.

And then he started talking while scanning the street to their left with his eyes, only to stop in the middle of a word for several seconds and dismiss something his illusion’s ears couldn’t perceive.

For anybody else that would be a clear sign of hallucination, or worse; But he knew that this mortal before him had his own set of special skills and since Stark always seemed to talk to a somebody in his suit it wouldn’t be impossible that Spiderman’s suit was sentient too.

It wouldn’t be too farfetched to say the boy had his reasons.

“And what if she won’t?” the teen’s voice was small and just this side of trembling.

A few seconds went by in which the older of the two just stared at the younger in front of him.

His vision was unable to focus on the figure; But his mind...

His mind couldn’t seem to hang on to anything but the small frame in front of him.

On the hunch in the narrow shoulders; the tilt of his head, down and a bit to the side. On those slim hands and fingers who couldn’t seem to stop plucking on the black web covering the suit. On the fear in his voice and the knowledge that not once over the course of this talk did either of them lie. And not once did the hero lose a single bad word about him.

It took him a few second to gather his bearings.

By the time he was able to concentrate again, he had sat up, kneeling on the ground.

The body in front of him mirrored his position. Heavily suggesting that his illusion had yet again slipped to resemble reality.

He didn’t bother altering his appearance again. Instead, he tried to listen.

What first sounded like a murmured stream of incoherent rambling soon cleared up to be cautious, soft-spoken reassurances.

Things like ‘it’s gonna be okay’ ‘I’ll get you out of there’ and a lot of ‘safety awaits’.

Again.

Not once did he lie. Not once did he use present tense and not a single sentence invalidated the hurt he felt in that moment; like all the typical, sweet nothings people normally said would have done.

It broke the ice giant’s heart. To realise that this young, naïve mortal knew enough about pain and panic-attacks to be aware of such details.

“It’s alright. I’ve got it together again” He said and briefly masked his illusions mouth with a smile.

He got a nod in return.

“Does she need my name to find me? Or should I set up some sort of signal?” the boy asked. Trying to get the conversation on a more positive note again.

After all.

The God’s appearance had pretty much answered his question.

“I doubt she will miss someone running around in bright red spandex. I didn’t see that many people doing it.” He joked.

The teen knew this reaction all too well. Humour to distract from whatever it is you don’t wanna think about.

He would let it slide this once.

“But I’m not in my suit all the time!! What if something happens and she has to find me during the day?! Or I’m not allowed to go out that night?”

‘Right.’ The Jotun thought. ‘Midgardians keep their young under close surveillance much longer than we do.’

“I could show her an image of you.” He answered. “She will inform you of when and where she can hand me over.”

While saying that he had closed his eyes. Exhaustion clear on his face.

“Yeah! Sure. Gather your strength. I will prepare something for you.”

“I can’t thank you enough” were the last word he heard from the god, before the apparition disappeared, letting Peter alone on the roof.

Alone with his thoughts.

Down the street to his left stood a woman in a window, holding a camera.

She hadn’t managed to get a shot of the vigilante’s face. Or see it for that matter.

But she knew he had taken his mask of. Revealing his face to a green shining figure, strangely resembling the Norse god of mischief.

‘well done Jones.’ She thought ‘this might just become useful in the future.’

*I took this from the comics. In those Peters spider sense alerts him to anything threatening his interests, even bluffs while playing poker or reporters and cameras during identity compromising situations.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

#peter parker #loki #loki marvel #tw mention of violence #tw mention of torture #chapter 2 #chapters #mcu #fanfic

3 notes · View notes

benlaksana · 5 years ago

Text

Coming Home

If there is one constant emotional response that my mind and body has conjured since coming back to Indonesia, it is anger. The reasons are plentiful. Chronic social and economic injustice, growing government oppression, sheer incompetency of many government officials, religious conservatism, as the proverbial saying goes, the list goes on.

And now with the coronavirus devastatingly consuming Indonesia and my government’s response has not only been weak and slow, lacking in coordination, but also simply at many times blatantly incompetent, anti-science and anti-expertise, resulting in the deaths of many including doctors and nurses, and with no full lockdowns initiated, no mass testing, just some half-baked government encouragement to physical distancing and good hygiene. I’ve observed that this time not only am I consumed with fervent anger but at many times deep sadness and crippling fear. An unholy trinity. In the name of anger, sadness and lingering fear.

Here’s some trivia and personal info for you folks. Did you know that Tuberculosis (TB) usually leaves scars on lungs it once infected and even though it’s been decades since my bout with TB, my lungs today, as you might expect, are not in tip-top shape. So that’s my pre-existing condition that at times, at many times, throws me into a panic and into a sudden cleaning spree. Wipe here, wipe there, disinfect door knobs, drowning recently handled money in warm soapy water. Irrational fear? On the contrary my beautiful friends. Indonesia has one of the highest Covid death rates in the world and with Covid patients on the rise but not at its peak, our already sparse healthcare system is already showing its cracks. Again, just to remind you, Indonesia is not even near the peak and we’re not even doing massive tests but everything is already hanging on a thread. Adding to this misery, the lack of some kind of social safety net has this climate of dread creeping up on me, this I acknowledge and I am trying as much as I can in keeping this at bay. Dread induced paralysis is not something I can to endure at the moment.

That’s some personal (slightly existential) rant right there.

But I understand that I’m lucky and painfully privileged to be able to work from home unlike so many others. So since at this moment my productivity rate is reaching zero and I’m basically pushing away work and other responsibilities as much as I can (which will probably come back and haunt me soon), let me just first reflect on life at the moment, updates on other things aside from this feeling of impending doom.

I’ve realized that I do not update this blog of mine as often as I would like to. Desires are kept as desires, and slowly wither away as desires. Yet as 2020 dawned on me and ages with uncertainty I spent my time re-reading old books that I have read many years ago and some of my old blog posts as well. Beginning with my first blog post which is now the ripe old age of 10 years old. One decade old. With the breakneck speed of change of today’s internet, 10 years is perhaps close to immortality in internet years. That being said, I still use Hotmail for my main email which I’ve had since 1998, the year I was introduced to the internet...and politics.

It was 13th of May 1998. I was at home with my dad as schools and offices were closed. The day before that soldiers opened fire at a student demonstration in front the University of Trisakti, Jakarta. Four students were killed, riots and demonstrations were happening everywhere the following day. So most people decided to stay home.

I remember my dad narrating the 1998 May protests as we attentively watched the event unravel through our old school CRT TV. My dad was thankfully percipient enough to refuse to go to his office during that week, but he did have friends in high places so it wasn’t much of a surprise if he received some kind of insiders info. I was about 12 years young at that time, on the cusp of teen hood. Puberty was on my mind, but that moment of watching a historical event unfold (which of course I did not understand it as something momentous) with my dad explaining with excitement of what was going on, even though I sure as hell did not understand the most of it, was illuminating. A father and son bonding session as result of reformasi. That sounded like a thesis topic: Family Relations and Social Change: Exploring Familial Relations through the 1998 Reformasi. (Hah!)

It did however shape my values and ideas that I still hold on to this day not only on politics per se but what I wanted or expected from this thing called the nation-state. I have to say that the May 1998 riots and demonstrations, the visualization of the riots on TV and my dad narrating in the background constantly interrupting the reporter, was the reason why I remember that day so clear. It made an indelible mark on me. I can’t even begin to imagine the impact to those who were physically effected by the riots, houses and stores burned down, people being raped and/or murdered..

About a week after the riots, on the 21st of May 1998 President Soeharto resigned after 32 years in power. I saw my dad cheering, again not fully grasping the reasons why, although he did try his best to explain. But it piqued my interest in politics, and being told that this this new thing (really new for me at that time) called the internet had much to offer about what was happening then, a few weeks after that, using my mom’s 36.6 kbps dial-up modem that I was awfully proud of, I registered for a shiny new Hotmail account. In hopes of joining mailing lists.

Wasantara-net, owned by Indonesia’s postal service, was my family’s choice for the internet service provider. I hated them as they were first-class in unreliability, but they were the only providers to be able to connect my house, on the edge of bogor, to the world wide web. My first few emails, if again I remember correctly, were chain mails about the May riots that I subscribed through questionable mIRC chats. Chats that start with A/S/L, age, sex, location, and either ends in hook ups, or being involved in something you’re too young or ignorant to fully understand.

Being young(er) and wanting to be part of something important is such a motivating factor in us actually doing and becoming something. With Carl Gustav Jung in mind, being young or old, we are but “modern man in search of meaning” and being part of something greater than ourselves does still give me meaning.

Fast forward a few decades, I’ve noticed that you get a raised eyebrow when you tell people that you’ve been using the same email for more than 20 years now, and you get double raised eyebrows and an instance of wincing, once they find out that said email is a Hotmail account. I am coming up with less and less excuses of why I haven’t migrated fully to other emails. But hey, you know what they say, habit brings comfort, repetition brings comfort, knowledge that arises from experience, from personal history, brings comfort. Although not always, the past brings comfort, while the future which is riddled with unpredictability is lamented and brings worry if not angst. Comfort though, I have come to understand, brings laziness and at many times dullness.

It is however always interesting looking at one’s own past and how it is intertwined with the past of others. I think I’ve written about this a number of times, and most of my writings are born from the act of retrospect. I often assume that I would not be able to talk about my future if I never look at my past, but what also happens is that I also end up talking more about my past or at the very most my present rather than talking/thinking about my future. Is that bad? Is that good? Am I shying away from discussions about my particular future? Maybe, I don’t have an answer to that now. But I know it’s there, tucked away in the back of my mind so I’ll probably talk more about that someday. And with Covid-19 destroying all of my plans in the near future that someday will probably come sooner.

Coming home to Indonesia, after a number of years abroad, I have also come to realize, sadly, that many of my social activities here in this space which I reluctantly call home, are more often than not, performative acts that I do not like performing for. I am basically faking it and I am doing this by fulfilling a cultural and social role that I necessarily do not have strong feelings for, or even just feelings for, but I have adapted myself into it. Somewhat. The reason why I do this is simply out of respect of others. Things that do not give meaning for me, has often been deeply meaningful for others and expressing it verbally does not bode well for maintaining relationships. I am happy to say that I have Rara to remind me when I have become too logical (I am happy to say that I have Rara to remind about many things in life) in understanding the meaning of culture for many. But it is, simply put, not without its personal struggles.

Being a son, being a son-in-law, being a younger and the youngest child in a family oriented, confuscianist-style, hierarchical, the-individual-is-constantly-attached-to-the-social kind of society. And then being a husband in a patriarchal society, where I am expected to fill a kind of leadership role that tires, bores and disinterests me.

(On a side note: for some reason, I have often come across this odd discussion of alpha/beta male/female amongst my peers here. Which I find interesting as it denotes a fixation to hierarchy and also the assumption of fixed temperaments/personalities of an individual across space and time. Are they basically saying that agency of one’s self perceived to be rarely possible? Is change and adapting to a situation impossible? )

Then without doubt as a citizen of a nation that I superficially identify with. How can I ever identify with a nation that happily and openly oppresses others for the sake of unity? And not only rarely admits it but even more rare tries to amend it. It is a simple rhetorical question.

In sum, I have to be honest with myself here, coming back home to Indonesia is not home for me and I don’t think it will ever be one. It is more of a burden than something that brings joy.

The food is great here and I have my family here which is also nice but life of course is much, much more than just culinary preferences or familial ties. I am losing my sense of self here, and it is destructive for me. I am losing myself.

Fully realizing this I was looking for a sense of direction when I reread some of my old already read books that once inspired and also my old blog posts these past few weeks. At the crux of it, this blog has always been for me. It is shared publicly in hopes of others sharing what they have learned through life and what I have done wrong in my life. And I have done many wrongs that have not been righted, some no longer even have the possibility of being righted.

Rereading my blog, I realize much like others, that our attempts in finding meaning, and our meanings when they are found are frail and delicate. It is constantly assailed and it is easily lost, and at times harder to find when lost. Life it seems always tries its best to rob you of meaning. Not because it is intent in doing so, but because the very nature of life is in its impermanence. Everything is impermanent including meaning itself.

Intellectually and experientially I understand this. But again like many, I’ve still tried to find meaning in others, and much like many I’ve lost these people in which I have found meaning in. This is the constant dillema as naturally social creatures.

It is perhaps in our nature to be contradictory, or to live in denial, to assume that meaning and the people or objects that give meaning is eternal.

Some of these people that I have acquired meaning from I have forever lost through death, much like so many people out there. I have also lost some rather unintentionally, such as due to spoken words that are not carefully thought out. Some by design, on purpose, with deep intent and thoroughly planned with precision execution, slowly letting go. At other times, a harsh break, a rude awakening on both ends, yet ending in a sigh of relief. As some relationships, although lush with wonderful memories, are never meant to last and can never be let to live in the future. Memories that remain as memories, stories of the past, that do not become worries of the present nor burdens of the future. Our understanding of meaning is often forced to change and to morph and at many times, to end. People and things that once provided meaning no longer do, as people and the things around us change. People including me.

I’ve changed, I know I’ve changed, I’m quieter yet more angry of the world, hopefully a bit more thoughtful of my words and actions. But one thing that hasn’t changed is how I am not done with grief, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be done with it. I’m not even sure if it’s actually grief. Because we all know that the tragedy of growing old, is the tragedy of unwillingly filling your life with regrets and maybe my grief is but a thin veil for my regrets.

One of my plants in my garden died today. A lush rosella bush that I was hoping to make some tea out of its beautiful red flowers. The days are drawing long, and hope is few and far in between.

Be well everyone.

44 notes · View notes

vln-vibes · 5 years ago

Text

The Raven and the Robin: (2)Legacy Day

Thanks for reading this dudes, I didn’t think it’d get alot of traction. Onto the story,

Summary: It’s Legacy Day but Raven knows her heart isn’t set on signing her book, perhaps Maddie knows what to do.

@justafanwarrior @insomniac-nerd-posts-things

Mara Queen walked the halls of her castle, well her and her husband’s, trying to find the little prince and princess.

“Where are my little birds?” Mara called out, keeping an ear out for any giggles.

“Hehehe”

Underneath the dining room table then.

“Oh where could my birds be? Surely they have not flown out the window!” Mara dramatically wept out, her platinum blonde, practically white, hair with varying shades of purple streaks, swaying as she quickly ducked underneath the large mahogany table. Her violet eyes twinkled in mirth as she heard the two children yelled in surprise.

“Mommy you found us!” her youngest, Robin, giggled as Raven pushed her way out from behind the chairs before helping Robin along. The Tornado Twins, she heard some of the castle staff call them fondly with how quickly they would appear and leave disaster behind. It made things better and worse that they had magical powers.

Robin had her white hair while Raven had James’s ebony locks, both had wavy hair. Both her children were faired skin though that was no surprise. While Raven had cerulean eyes, Robin’s were seagreen, a bit darker than her own before she signed away her destiny.

They were little troublemakers but they were hers.

“Look at you two, you look like a mess” Mara sighed, the grass stains and dust on their faces and clothes not looking like they’d be easy to clean up by hand. Luckily she had just the spell.

“From rags to riches, dull to shine, Clean these twin royals of mine”

“Aww but mommy we want to play here” Robin whined as his little golden crown tilted on his head, Raven following behind her with little prompting.

“Well you could stay here” Mara teased “Or you could accompany me for lunch with the Badwolfs and Hunters”

“Are our friends going to be there mom?” Raven shyly asked, taking a hold of Robin’s hand.

“We’ll find out when we get there”

And with that the three King-Queens headed out for a play date, one of the last they’d go to as a family.

♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕

Raven found herself in a state of unease as she walked down the halls of Ever After High on the morning of Legacy Day.

Ever since she was outed as the daughter of the Good King, therefore also the daughter of the Evil Queen, she’d been outcast by most of her classmates; suddenly she was an unpredictable evil witch instead of the quiet but sassy girl most assumed would be a royal. Apple and Headmaster Grimm had even tried to remove her things from Maddie’s room and Raven did not regret the hex she placed on them then or when they tried messing with her schedule a month into the school year.

She hated Legacy Day.

“Maddie, you have to help me.” Raven sighed as she grabbed onto her BFFA,“ I don't feel like I can sign the Storybook of Legends, but I don't wanna let everyone down either.”

“And do not forget the whole, ‘If you don't sign, your story disappears—poof!—and you may vanish into oblivion!’” Maddie emphasized with a large gesture of her hands before taking a large gulp of air “That's a thing you know, and it's gotta hurt.”

“But we don't know if that's true.”

“But what if it is?”

“But what if it's not?”

“But what if it is?”

“You're not helping.” Raven sighed once more, beginning to think that refusing to sign was a hopeless endeavor.

“Wait a tick! I think I know who can help.” with a snap of her fingers Maddie began to bounce excitedly and began to gesture to the library wing of the school. Not a moment too soon as Raven could see Apple White begin to wave her hand at her and make her way towards the duo.

“Ooh! Raven! There you are. We have to talk.”

As they hid behind one of the library shelves Maddie began to knock on the door behind them, a mist surrounding the hidden duo before taking them into another room.

“If anyone knows the truth about the Storybook of Legends, it's Giles Grimm!” Maddie laughed, gesturing across the curtain to reveal a lanky graying man, she could see some similarities with the Headmaster though their way of presenting themselves was like night and day; Giles was casual if a little more hobo looking while Milton always made sure he looked as crisp and pristine as possible.

“Feathers and friends! Together, alone.” Giles Grimm bowed to the young princess.

“He's speaking Riddlish! He was cursed with the babble spell. Makes him sound, you know...cu-roo-coocoo!” Maddie explained as she waved her fingers around her head, “ He says it's nice to have us here.”

“Ask him about the book! If I don't sign, am I really gonna... uh, disappear?” Raven requested, feeling her nerves build up.

“Mmhmm! Can the musical chair change its tone when the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?” Maddie translated for her friend.

“Hmm...the constellation lays incomplete in the sky tonight, does this mean the night will not arrive?”

“Oh” Maddie’s demeanor seemed to droop for a second as she turned to Raven “He knows that your story doesn’t have all its active roles but he doesn’t know how the storybook will take it if it finds out”

“Bu-But what about signing? Even if the story doesn’t have all its roles do I still need to sign or will something happen?” Raven could feel as her throat began to constrict, an invisible bile going up her throat as she recalled the missing piece of the story.

“The king who sings with pages of sky fears too much the dawn that rises with lies.” Giles gave a sympathetic look to Raven before talking to Maddie.

“He says there's something wrong with the book, and that if you don't sign, your story will…”

“What? WHAT?” Raven opened her eyes to see Maddie already having set up a tea party and serving a cup to Giles.

“Oh, sorry! If you don't sign, your story will continue.”

“Ah, really? Oh that's great.”

“...I think.”

♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕

Raven had to stop herself from glaring at Apple as the girl only stared her down; everyone was surprised when she arrived in her “Good King” outfit.

It was a bit of an old style for Raven’s style but a little bit of magic helped adjust to her taste, just a bit. Raven proudly wore the same white suit all the Good Kings had worn, her father included, a 19th century styled German army suit that the original Good King wore, with golden accents on the shoulders, buttons and embroidery, the original loose white pants with golden embroidery on the side of the leg becoming more form fitting, shiny black leather boots, with some added heel, and white gloves tying it together before adding the finishing touches. Raven had made sure to correctly adjust the clasps on her carmine velvet cape with white fur on its trims and that the crown, a golden trimmed crown with different colored jewels carefully placed on it and a velvet cap underneath it.

“Shouldn’t you be wearing the same thing all Evil Queens wore before?” Apple asked in a forced polite voice, after all her Evil Queen couldn’t be wearing the suit her grandfather wore for Legacy Day… even if her mother never liked talking about him.

“Shouldn’t you be wearing the same clothes the Snow Whites have before?” Raven stared at Apple’s dress, clearly tailored for today even though it was not the way Legacy Day worked; they were supposed to be wearing the suits the Originals wore in their stories. For someone all about tradition, Raven couldn’t help but think that Apple was just full of it.

At that Apple just went back to the unofficial “Royal” side of the courtyard. Raven made her way with the Rebels.

“Fables and Gentletales! It is my honor to welcome you to the newest generation of Legacy Day”

♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕

This was so unfairest.

Raven had been clapping politely as her friend’s turn was coming up only to be thrown a curveball.

They were not going in order of Author or even Fairy Tale title; they were just going in random order.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland was up first, as it had been during rehearsals.

“I, Alistair Liddell-Wonderland, son of Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, promise to fulfill my destiny as the next Alice and resolve every riddle that stands in my way!” The crowd cheered as Alistair finished his speech, silver key appearing over his hand before placing it in the book. Raven winced from her seat, recalling the fact that Alistair and the other Wonderlandians couldn’t go back because of the Evil Queen’s spell. Well Alistair already completed his story; all Alice’s did before Legacy Day even happened. Every Alice would fall in a rabbit hole and into Wonderland after being spied on by that White Rabbit by the age of seven. It was an Alice thing according to Maddie.

Bunny Blanc was the only “Role” that was unavailable during the ceremony. She didn’t escape with the others and was still stuck in Wonderland.

Kitty Cheshire, Elizabeth “Lizzie” Hearts and Maddie each signed the Storybook of Legends after Alistair was done.

Then Headmaster Grimm just had to meddle; Snow White was going up next.

“I am Hunter Huntsman, son of the Huntsman from Snow White and Red Riding Hood, and I am here to pledge… my destiny” Hunter forced a smile on his face, it's not as though he was ever ashamed of his destiny but well𑁋 As a vegetarian he couldn’t help but dislike certain aspects of his role, namely the slaughter of animals. He faced the crowd as the bronze key appeared before him and inserted it into the Storybook of Legends. The flipping of pages giving a small breeze to his forest green hood as he watched the scenes before him.

He was strolling through the woods, animals on the look for him. The animals rushed to him and gestured to a familiar looking cottage; he had to pull Ramona and Cerise away from a fight, neither looking too happy at old Ruby Hood, the Red Riding Hood before their mom. He just walked away from the cottage with the girls before he received a message on his mirror phone from an unidentified number that “requested his services”. It showed him at the steps of a castle… wait what? The pictures after that were all blurred, as though water had spilled on top of them.

Hunter was snapped out of his stupor as the feather appeared before him; Hunter Huntsman was officially the next Huntsman for the two stories.

“Raven Queen” Headmaster Grimm called out, much to Raven’s annoyance as she walked up the staircase.

“I am Raven King-Queen, daughter of the Good King and the Evil Queen, and I pledge um…”

Raven took the golden key before her, a small crown with a ruby crystal on top, inserting it in the Storybook. With a sigh she twisted the key in the lock as the pages began to fly.

Raven couldn’t control the whirlwind of emotions she felt as the story unfolded before her. She hadn’t realized the magic she unleashed, all the mega mirrors now showing what she looked at.

Raven, at ten years old, stood side by side with a boy with white hair, the duo walking through the halls of the King-Queen “Good” castle. Eleven year old Raven watched as the white haired boy, both now having streaks of royal blue and regal purple in their hair, seemed to be bossing around a younger Hunter Huntsman. Raven was now thirteen years old, watching from her room as a crystal object was being carried away by castle staff. Seventeen year old Raven (this year?) watched as an armored figure leaned forward, a crystal coffin people realized, and gave a kiss to the unseen person inside of it.

Raven had enough. She knew what she had to do.

“I am Raven King-Queen, daughter of the Good King and Evil Queen, here to announce that it is my destiny to become the next Good King” Raven ignored the shocked looks or cheers coming from the Royal side as the Rebels just continued to stare.

Raven shut the book.

“But I will not be signing the Storybook of Legends; I’ll find my own Happily Ever After”

“Oh my…”

“Yaayyy!”

“Raven did it!”

All the mirrors shattered once the book was closed. Raven looked around she realized that nothing had happened after that. She was still alive, everyone was still alive.

“You lied! I didn’t disappear” Raven’s fury was directed at Milton Grimm, cerulean eyes lit up

“Are you here to make a fool of me young lady!” Milton barked, his skin gaining a red tint to it, similarly to Apple as she glared at Raven.

“I told you I wasn’t the Evil Queen” she huffed back

“Ho-How could you be so selfish! If you’re not the Evil Queen to my story then who is!” Apple demanded.

Raven stopped herself from losing grip of her emotions again, she turned back and gave Apple a solemn look “That’s another story ever after”

Raven King-Queen stepped down the staircase, towards her awaiting friends, and never looked back.

♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕♛♕

After the ceremony was postponed until further notice, Milton Grimm stormed up into the hidden entrance of the tower where the Magic Mirror was kept.

She would be talking to him whether she was willing or not.

“What is the meaning of this! Where is the new Evil Queen! What have you𑁋”

Milton Grimm was shocked at the sight within the mirror. No longer did she wear the bird skull crown or have black, purple and magenta hair, or even the same dress she had when destroying the other stories.

It was as though the Evil Queen many had come to fear was gone.

Crying within the mirror was the same Mara Queen he had recognized from her own days at Ever After, amethyst eyes she only gained after Legacy Day looked at him in distress and horror.

“What have I done?”

AO3 KO-FI

#Ever After High #EAH #Ever after high au #The Raven and the Robin #EAH au #salt #EAH Fanfic #Raven Queen #Raven King AU #Raven centric #Eve-Valution

36 notes · View notes

petri808 · 5 years ago

Link

Bakudeku canon divergent one-shot, 7k words. it kinda went on its own damn train ride lol. SFW except with swearing and inferred sexual content but not explicitly described.

They were just going home for the weekend to unwind, but on the way there, Izuku falls asleep on the train leaving Katsuki in a predicament that triggers a wave of possible misunderstandings. But that wasn't even the worst of it, when a blogger snaps an impromptu photo of the pair that sends Katsuki over the edge and threatens the very relationship he wanted before it could even begin. Are they pro partners or... partners?

You would think, that having lived on the outskirts of a big city for all of their lives, it would have made them immune to the humdrum of chaotic metropolitan life. People everywhere, and during rush hours such as before or after business hours, the streets resembled the mass migrations of wildebeests on their way to a new grazing field. All you could do to keep from being trampled were follow along with the flow of traffic.

The weekend was a freebie for once, with no training, interning, and even better a lull in villain activity. So, most of the class of 1-A opted to return home to visit family, including Katsuki and Izuku. So, as the pair stands amongst the sea of Friday afternoon commuters, it was clear that it would take a couple of passes before they would get onto a train, despite station personnel shoving as many into the cars as possible. This irritated the blonde hot head. They would have missed the busy time if the nerd had packed the night before and not waited until after classes had finished for the day.

“My mom asked if you’d like to come over for dinner,” Izuku questions his friend. “She said she could make that spicy curry you like.”

Knowing that the woman had most likely asked his mom first, who’d probably accepted, Katsuki knew his options were either to agree or deal with being yelled at by his mother. He held back the growl burning in his throat. “You sure aunty Inko doesn’t mind?”

Izuku smiles. “Of course not, Kacchan. She likes having you over.”

Welp. He swore this family was trying for sainthood status or something. Not many could handle his explosive personality, aside from family, and the few close friends he kept close to his vest. “Alright, I’ll stay for dinner,” he grumps and goes back to scrolling on his phone.

Satisfied with his friend’s response, Izuku does the same, since it was the best way to pass the time. If only the train wasn’t so full, because he was ready to use this opportunity to get some much-needed R & R. He stares at his phone, zoning out on his Instagram feed, mostly scrolling through with the occasional like or share to his story. A yawn cuts through, but he pays it no mind, assuming that his late-night studying was catching up to him.

Ever wonder what canned sardines might feel like? Well, it’s crossed Izuku’s mind once or twice as he stood shoulder to shoulder next to his friend. All he could pray for was no one tried anything funny. And as for Katsuki, he did his best to ignore the fact that he had no personal space in this damn commuter train.

They bumped along the track, the people inside swaying along like a gentle wave, ebbing and flowing with the surges. It was a sight to see if you’ve never experienced it. Those that could reach, held on to the overhead bars or hanging straps, while the lucky few who’d managed to snag a seat, were crowded with just enough space to sit. It brought a smile to Izuku’s face to see that seats were readily given up for the aged or those with small children.

But the rocking motion was making him sleepy, and before he knew it, the green-haired hero was dozing off. That wasn’t a good thing, since they still had several more stops to go before their own would come. For the first couple of times, it was Katsuki’s elbow to his midsection that woke him up again.

One would think it odd to fall asleep standing up on a train, but when you picture the compacted nature of their situation, it certainly was a possible feat. Surrounding passengers acted as gentle bumpers, guiding you with the flow, while the cramped nature made it impossible to fall down. Plus, the occasional jarring along the track would wake most people from their slumbers.

At first, Katsuki was annoyed when Izuku’s lolling head would come to rest against his arm. It was bad enough to feel trapped in this metal box, but to now be used as a pillow?! It’s not like he could push the sleeping man away either. But he had to admit... the nerd was adorable when he slept.

There was such a peaceful essence, an almost angelic nature to his oldest friend. From the cherubim cheeks, silly freckles, and sweet boyish charm that melted many hearts, including, to his chagrin, his own. Katsuki rarely knew what it felt like to be at such peace, and frankly it was one of the things that annoyed him about his friend. How could this mouse go from anxious-riddled while awake, to a zen like state so easily?

The blonde looks up at the automatic announcer screen and sees another stop coming up in a minute. He knew once the other passengers began to filter in and out, the shift would cause Izuku to lose his buffer and fall.

Damn it!

Now he couldn’t just let that happen or how bad would it look? Up and coming pro hero, let’s friend face plant in a train. All he needed was the multitudes of phone cameras going off and being lectured by Aizawa for unbecoming hero behavior... yeah thanks, but no thanks. His face blooms a shade of pink, and his skin heats up as he slips his arm around Izuku’s body, hugging the shorter man against his side. Katsuki does this as quietly and gently as possible so as to not wake his friend because the last thing he needs is to feel any weirder than he already did. Luckily for the blonde, the man never wakes, despite being brushed and shifted by the flow of new and old passengers.

But a new dilemma arises, not enough passengers. To Katsuki’s horror, he’d have to keep his arm around Izuku or the man would have little other support. Sure, he could wake his friend up and yet... as he glances down at the slumbering nerd, he just couldn’t do it. Kami, he was even smiling in his sleep!

Zing. It stops the hot-heads heart for a millisecond as the word cute almost slips from his lips. Katsuki looks away, shielding his eyes, or maybe to hide the new wave of heat flooding his cheeks. Damn it! Where were these emotions coming from?! He forces himself from looking back out of fear that his heart might skip a second beat.

But a snicker catches his attention, and Katsuki looks over to see a couple of younger males staring at him and whispering between each other. He lifts his hand briefly, flashing a spark. That shuts them up, their eyes quickly averting back to their phones. ’Yeah that’s right,’ he muses, there ain’t nothing going on here. ’Two more stops... two more stops to go...’ chants chorusing through his mind. He just needed to survive two more stops.

Suddenly, Izuku shifts, turning slightly as if he thinks he’s sleeping on his side on a bed, cuddling a little to the warmth he found purchase on.

Katsuki stiffens from the contact, this damn nerd! He rubs his sweaty palm against his pants as the heat index suddenly doubles in the tin can. Dear Kami, he didn’t know if he wanted to kill the man or... ’don’t you dare finish that thought!’ He growls under his breath.

“Ka—cchan, don’t growl at me...”

He hears his friend’s whiny mumble, along with even more snickering around the car. ’What the hell!’ Does Izuku know, thinks he’s sleeping next to him?! Oh no, no, no! His heart was ready to explode, or his brain, either way if they didn’t get out of there soon, he might combust! Was this man dreaming... about... him?! Friends don't just cuddle! Katsuki couldn’t breathe and the air grew stuffy, overbearing as if a strange fog of tepid air had descended and filled the car. His mind spun through a kaleidoscope of emotions... confused and yet hints of sinful thoughts hitch his breath in abated release. If he didn’t do something soon it was down the rabbit hole for him.

At the next stop, as soon as the other passengers began to disembark, Katsuki quickly pulls Izuku over to a seat that opens up and drops the unaware man onto it with a thud. Everything, this! It was too much, too sudden to thrust onto his shoulders. They were on a train for heavens sakes! This was not the time or circumstance to be delving into the potential... ’Don’t... I can’t... face this truth right now.’

“Kacchan?” Izuku rubs his eyes after the jarring wake up call. “Are we at our stop?” He looks up and sees his friends back facing him, but the blonde’s fists are balled so tightly at his sides, he could see the whiteness of the knuckles and veins screaming under the skin. “Kacchan what’s wrong?”

As soon as he hears Izuku’s voice behind him, the blonde almost jumps out of his skin, as electrical currents rip up his spine, causing his body to freeze in place. “Nothing.” His words are terse and final. “Our stop is up in a couple minutes.”

The green-haired man looks up at the digital announcements and sees the message. Oh good! And wow, had he really slept all the way here? Though somehow, he’d gone from standing to sitting. He smiles unknowingly, “Thank you for waking me up Kacchan.”

“Tch.” Guess the nerd doesn’t remember anything and hell if he was gonna be the one to point it out.

For the rest of the train ride and short walk to their apartment building, things went back to normal on the outside with Katsuki keeping his word and staying over for dinner. Inko Midoriya’s cooking was just as he remembered it, and he was delighted in how spicy she’d made his portion. She talked their ears off, asking how things were going at school, excitedly showing them newspaper paper clippings of the two of them that she would save. Frankly, that surprised him a little. Stories of her son were one thing, but why articles that included him? Seeing how happy they made her, any questions he has die away on his tongue.

“It’s really nice to see you boys still friends after all these years,” she tells them as Katsuki stood at the door ready to leave. “And I feel a lot better knowing my Izuku has you of all people watching his back.”

"Um... Thanks auntie Inko," Katsuki mumbles a bit embarrassed. He really wasn't sure how to respond knowing how much of a dick he could be to his oldest friend.

"Aww mom," Izuku blushes red. He wasn't sure of the truthfulness of that statement... well maybe, he guessed it was true that he and Katsuki could fight like cats and dogs but when it came down to a battle, his oldest friend was the one person he trusted more than any other.

"Goodnight aunty Inko..." Katsuki turns to leave, "and you too De..ei—Izuku."

"Goodnight Bakugou," Inko smiles and watches the young man go, "and tell your mom I said hi!"

"Night Kacchan!"

Inko closes the door to the apartment. "He's turned into such a fine young man his mother is so proud." She then turns to her son, "like I'm so proud of mine," then places a hand on his shoulder, "promise me to take care of each other. There's nothing more important than the strength of your friendship."

If only she knew. "I will mom," Izuku blushes, "I'd do anything for Kacchan."

"I'm sure you would," she smiles and pats him on the shoulder before walking away.

In the Bakugou household, the moment Katsuki walked through the front door of the apartment, his mother pounced on him like a lioness. How did it go, how were the Midoriya's, did he behave, when was he ever planning on bringing Izuku over to visit? Tired and frankly with his head still spinning from that afternoon’s events, all the hot head would give her were one-word answers. Fine. Good. Yes. Never! Of course, that last one had his mom screeching, but he tuned her out and locked her out of his bedroom.

At last! Without turning on the overhead light, he flops onto his bed and throws an arm over his eyes to shield them from the non-existent light source. Darkness was a friend right now, offering solace and quiet, yet with little peace from the raging thoughts swirling through his mind. Today really was a rabbit hole of twists, turns, and uncorroborated revelations that left the blonde grappling with what to do about it.

Number one, he hated being blindsided like that, and number two, he hated it even more when emotions were involved. They just weren't his thing. He understood logic and a straight-forward attitude, not hidden intrigues or anything that could be associated with weakness. Well, maybe weakness was a strong word. Confusion? Being unsure? In his opinion letting emotions cloud one’s judgement made them a target. That's why he preferred to wear his on his sleeve... Err, sort of. His explosive personality, or the anger that could come out was a testament to never holding things in.

Katsuki closes his eyes, exhausted from thinking about Izuku and that damn train ride. Maybe after a good night of sleep, he'll start the day off fresh and forget that anything had ever happened.

That evening, after his friend had left and his mother retired for the night, Izuku takes advantage of the quiet nature of their apartment. It was getting late, but he fills the furo and sinks up to his neck into the steaming waters. Wow, he needed this. The hot water was a god send to mellow out the raging storm he’d held inside. Since the moment he’d woken up in that train the whole situation ate away at him, and the more his analytical brain processed it, the bigger the realities became clear that something had indeed happened.

First off, he remembered being sleepy, even dozing off a couple of times. Then the next thing he knew, he was sitting, no longer standing, and they were minutes away from their stop. Based on his calculations, he’d been asleep for approximately 20 minutes. But what had gone on during that time? It must have been Katsuki that put him in the seat, though why had his friend seemed so annoyed?

Izuku replays the moments from the time his eyes opened until they disembarked, and distinctly remembers the clenched fists and curt tone in the blonde’s responses. In fact, Katsuki wouldn’t even look at him the rest of the way home and it was only when his mother forced conversations between them, did he receive short glances. His friend was hiding something. Damn it, but what?! He sighs and sinks deeper into the refreshing waters. The only thing left to consider is the one thing he couldn’t remember.

Ugh!

Maybe he’d been dreaming? Which would make sense considering there wasn’t much more a person could do while asleep. But wait, had he been asleep standing up for a part of that time? When he’d woken up, the train was no longer the sardine can it had been, so how could he have slept standing up unless... “Oh... no!” Izuku gasps, wishing he could drown himself right then and there. Katsuki must have kept him from falling. But the worst part, was realizing, he sometimes talked in his sleep. ‘Fuck!’ Is that what happened?! It wasn’t a dream after all, but his worst nightmares come true!

But why hadn’t the hot head said anything?! Jump down his throat, snap, something! Oh, this was bad if Katsuki kept quiet about it! What the hell did he do?!

That night Izuku tossed and turned through strange dreams. The constant thoughts of his friend plaguing him and bringing with it, images of raw and unadulterated moments that have never taken place. He awoke with a start, flushed and feverish, only vague memories of the dream. But what was left had sent his mind in a tailspin. 'I can still feel...' Katsuki's touch. Ghostly lingers along his skin, his arms, his face heated and sweat glistening along their pale bodies. 'Oh my god...' he covers his face in embarrassment despite being alone in the room. These were well hidden desires creeping into his subconscious... and maybe... had it... 'Did I sleep talk on that train?!’

This was never to be mentioned again! It was doubtful that Katsuki would bring it up, so he'll just pretend that nothing had happened. End of story. Damn his mouth always getting him in trouble! Needless to say, sleepless nights continued and as Sunday morning dawned, the nerd was sorely in need of another break. So much for the rest and relaxation.

“Oi Deku be ready by 4pm.”

Katsuki stared down at the text message he'd just sent. The damn nerd better be ready on time for once!

He flops back onto his own bed and turns on the television. The sound coming from the screen merely a droning to the thoughts plaguing his mind, and one he preferred to avoid. It had all started by middle school, little twinges of emotions whenever the nerd was around. Back then, he'd buried them deep down where he'd hoped they'd die away. On the contrary, only growing stronger over the years. The hostility was his coping mechanism. Be mean to the guy and no one would suspect the opposite.

Becoming the #1 hero was his goal and focusing on that should be his main priority. Training, getting stronger, all of these things were what mattered. He didn't want some stupid crush to make him lose focus. Until now, it hadn't been difficult to do any of that because he assumed Izuku had similar goals. Plus, the man never gave any inkling he might feel the same way.

Well if this didn't just throw a proverbial monkey wrench into the situation! Maybe it was nothing but a bunch of exaggerated conjecture, fantasies contrived in his own mind that would turn out to be one big misunderstanding. Katsuki's brows furrow, such a thought didn't make him any happier. On the contrary, that might break his... 'Not going there!' But it would be a bigger punch in the gut then when he’d found out the nerd had a quirk.

Bloody hell. As Katsuki looks over at his clock he realizes he’s been sitting there for an hour just fussing over this unrequited mess he was in. He clicks off the useless television and storms out of his room, some training would do him justice to work off the frustration.

10 am turned into noon and still no response from Izuku. By 2pm the hot head was ready to explode. Why hadn't the nerd answered him?! He couldn't call Mrs. Midoriya because she was inconveniently out with his own mother on a Sunday shopping trip. "Argh!" Katsuki throws his phone at his bed, fuming as he packs up his belongings. He didn't want to risk waiting until 4pm, only to find out the nerd wasn't ready. So, when he hears his mother return, that was his cue. The blonde looks at his phone, '3'o'clock. Perfect!’ he grabs his backpack and heads out.

When he knocks on the Midoriya's door, Inko answers.

"Oh! Hello! Please," she waves him in. "I think Izuku is asleep again, he's been really tired all weekend."

Just great! Katsuki didn't want to snap in front of the woman so he simply nods and bangs his way into the nerd’s room. Sure enough, there the man was all sprawled out on his bed!

Without thinking, he rips the blankets from the bed, pulling Izuku along with it. The man falls out half twisted amongst the fabric. "Damn it Deku you're gonna make us late again! I swear I..." Shit! The blonde pauses mid rant and spins on his heel to face away. "Put some fucking clothes on Deku, you got 5 minutes to be packed!" He then storms out of the room leaving a half awake and clueless Izuku shocked on the floor.

'Huh?' Izuku looks down, 'Eek!' pulling the blankets up around him. All he had on was a pair of All Might boxers and nothing else. They've seen each other naked in the showers before not to mention as little kids when their parents would make them bathe at the same time, but this was the worst timing!

He glances at the clock wondering why Katsuki was there in the first place and sees the time. Oh man, no wonder the blonde was pissed! Izuku quickly scrambles around his bedroom, throwing on clothes and shoving his belongings into a backpack. He races out of the bedroom and smacks right into his friend. "Oof!"

"Tch," Katsuki pushes him off, pushing down the fierce heat that flames up from the contact.

"S-Sorry, Kacchan."

Without a retort, he ignores the man and after saying good-bye to Izuku's mom, walks out of the apartment.

"Is everything okay," the woman questions her son as he tries to hurry after his friend.

"Ye-Yeah, everything's fine. Bye Mom!" He races out, still working on his shoes.

They walk in silence to the train station. The normally chatty nerd was lost for words and the hot head pretending nothing was wrong. Thankfully, the train was devoid of people, save for a handful at the other end of the car. That could change at subsequent stops but at least it gave them first dibs on seats.

Izuku picks an empty bench to sit on and is surprised when Katsuki follows suit by sitting right beside him. He didn't know if he should be happy or even more on edge considering there were other options available to the blonde. But the man simply pops his ear buds in, turns on his music and closes his eyes, ignoring him. Clearly, the man didn't want to be bothered and so, he took his cue and focused on his own phone for entertainment.

His whole weekend had been a frustrating and tiresome ordeal, and all he wanted to do was grab some food when they reached the dorms, then curl up in bed until it was time to leave for Monday morning classes. If Katsuki was going to ignore the fact that anything strange may have happened between them, the green-haired man simply assumed that his unrequited feelings would remain just that.

But just like Friday, slowly, the phone screen began to blur, and Izuku struggles to keep his eyes open. He didn't want to fall asleep again. He didn't want to risk another encounter... but the train's motion was lulling him, beckoning him into another slumber. And before he could stop himself, the world had slipped away.

With his eyes closed, Katsuki had been unaware of the nerd’s predicament. It had been the plan all along to ignore the man, then lock himself away in his dorm room. That's when he feels it, as the train shifts during a bend in the tracks, and the weight of a body presses against his side.

This man was out to kill him...

Every fiber in his soul pulled him in two different directions. On the one hand, move to another seat and leave Deku crashed out on this bench. On the other hand, just put up with it, be the friend who keeps him from slipping. Ugh! Why was the second option winning?!

He looks over and there’s that damn angelic face again, so comfortable and serene in an unknown dreamland. Peacefully resting with his head against Katsuki’s shoulder. ‘Tch!’ Why was the nerd so tired lately? He brushes away a few strands that had slipped over Izuku’s face, noting a few more freckles that he’d hadn’t noticed before. ’Cute...’ Arrow to his heart. What was he thinking?!

Katsuki turns away and tries to ignore the pull, but he can’t resist. Seeing this man so quiet brought a strange calming effect that he never quite understood. Oh, don’t get him wrong, an awake Izuku could push his buttons like no other and yet there was something of a balance they held that when put to the test was amazing to witness. He exhales, like the time on Nabu, just one of many that proved how perfect they were together.

A cold chill from nowhere causes his breathing to falter. That island... he’d pushed past a fear to keep fighting, the only fear that could stop his heart cold. They’d been so close, for a brief moment in time the idea he might lose this man next to him was enough to push him past any barriers his body threw up. He didn’t care if broke every bone in his body because there was no way he’d let Izuku die.

He looks over again at his friend. Regardless if things ever progressed between them, he’d always be there for this man. A light smile worms its way onto Katsuki’s face. Alright fine, so yes, he had a heart and it happened to belong to one person. Izuku may not know it yet, and that was okay. He slips his arm around the man’s shoulders, keeping him locked against his side. So be it. Katsuki closes his eyes and relaxes with his head rested against Izuku for the rest of the train ride. Guess this wasn’t so bad after all.

"Dudes!!"

"What Shitty hair?!"

Kirishima rushes down the landing practically jumping the steps to confront Izuku and Katsuki as they arrive at the dorms. He shoves his phone in their faces. "What is you guys are going viral!"

The two men zero in on the small screen and it was Izuku to react first, his face exploding into a red firestorm of sputtered, indecipherable babbling while Katsuki's face paled like a snowy forest being blanketed in its first winter’s storm. It was a photo of them on the train, sitting quietly as if asleep with their heads resting against each other's. Someone had taken a picture of them! But the kicker was not the photo itself but the headline: Pro Partners or... Partners?

Silence... deafening peaks of human interaction gone as the air surrounding the trio pulls away like a vacuum in a combustion chamber gathering fuel. Distant sounds of metropolitan life or fauna muffled and roaring in their ears. They flinch from the cracking of knuckles balled tightly against their friend’s sides.

Izuku and Kirishima retreat back, one step, two as steam slowly rises from their friend’s hands. Oh... Shit... “Go,” Izuku whispers to the red-head, “j-just, go I’ll deal with him.”

“It was nice knowin’ ya,” Kirishima mutters as he books it for the dorm.

Katsuki was beyond reckoning. Why now, like this, when he was just getting used to the idea... IDEA! Of maybe, maybe dropping his guard and letting Izuku in. ’This wasn’t his fault...’ ’I know that!!’ Stupid, fucking, bastard, if I ever find the photographer, he’s dead! DEAD! How dare he use such a bold headline! It didn’t matter if there was an ember of truth, the fact that this photo was blasted on social media would surely garner attention that he was not at all ready for!

What was Izuku supposed to say when he was just as shocked, maybe more so than the hot head. He didn’t even know this had happened. Obviously, it was taken on their way back when he’d fallen asleep, but he thought nothing else of it. He’d woken up, still sitting on the seat with Katsuki scrolling on his phone beside him. It was all within norms. Hell, he was relieved that nothing else weird had gone on!

But now he along with the world learned the truth after being blasted on social media. Even so, it wasn’t worth making up insinuations. Maybe his friend had simply fallen asleep too. Nothing weird about that. Though... ’how do you explain Kacchan’s arm around you.’ Leave it to his conscious to remember the details.

A rush of emotions spark within Izuku at how relaxed his crush was looking in that photo. If one removed any misunderstandings of the two, it really was a nice photo. To see Katsuki looking at ease and not angry or tense, even for Izuku who’s known the guy since childhood, such moments were rare indeed. He knew his friend had a softer, caring side despite hiding it. It’s one of the things that made him fall in love with the man all those years ago.

Now, how to keep the blonde from exploding?

Izuku reaches out tentatively for his friend’s shoulder, “Kacchan, please let’s just...”

“JUST WHAT?!” The hot head’s rage explodes, and he swats the nerd’s hand away. “You can’t make this better, you can’t fix everything Deku so just fucking stop!”

“I’m not...”

Katsuki loses it. He grabs Izuku by the shirt with both hands. “Don’t fucking interrupt me! I’m not someone you need to save!” He shoves the boy back. “You just don’t get it Deku! This! It’ll ruin my fucking image! I can’t be seen with you like that!”

’Oh... fuck.’ All the blood in his face drains the second those final words register on his lips. The blonde knew he’d just screwed up royally, when the man deflates right before his eyes. All the anger over the photo taken out on the one person he cared about.

Izuku didn’t deserve that.

“I get it, okay,” Izuku takes a step back, clutching to a non-existent pain in his chest and choking back a sob. “You hate me. Always have and just put up with me to keep your mom off you back.”

“Izuku wait...”

Another step back. “No, no your right Kacchan. I’m your rival, your enemy. Of course, you don’t want to be seen with me, I get it.”

’FUCK!!’ “Wait no goddamn it! I didn’t mean...” he grabs for his friend once more, but the heartbroken man steps out of reach and races away into the building.

“ARGHHH!!! STUPID!!” All the anger returns ten-fold but onto himself. His damn mouth ruined everything! He didn’t hate Deku, he... loved him. That stupid, sensitive mouse who was always there for him, didn’t fear him like others do, was the one he wanted. “Damn it!”

Katsuki wastes no time in storming through the common area in such a fury, their classmates flinch and quickly get out of the way. He heads straight up to the dorm floor and right to Izuku’s room where he finds it empty. “Where the fuck did, he go?!”

Ping. His phone beeps with a message from Shouto. Of all people, what did half and half want now?!

”Midoriya was in the kitchen talking to Ochako, he just left.”

Without responding, the hot head bee lines it back downstairs. He finds the gravity chick still in the kitchen, standing puzzled and upset, leaning against a counter. But as soon as Uraraka sees him enter the room, she turns and starts snapping with a level of anger he’s never seen before.

“You’re such a bastard! You crushed that poor guys heart over what? Your Image!! It was just a cute photo for crying out loud!”

“Look I ain’t here to argue with you,” he narrows his eyes and growls at her. “I just wanna talk to Izuku.”

“Well he ain’t here.”

“No shit! Then where is he?!”

“Why should I tell you, so you can destroy him some more?! Izu was so happy to think... you know what never mind,” she crosses her arms. “All I will say is he deserves so much better than you! I don’t know why in the world he would crush on a guy who treats him like shit!”

His eyes grow wide, dizzying, the world spinning as all the strength in his body suddenly dissipates. “WHAT?!!” Katsuki crumples, trips over his feet, stumbling backward against the door jamb. Did he just hear, what he thought he heard?! “D-Deku actually likes me too?...” it was more like a whisper, but the words echo in his ears. He’d resigned himself to a one-sided quiet infatuation, convinced that the whole ordeal in the train was just a misunderstanding. Izuku couldn’t have been dreaming of him. Maybe he was after all, and now he might have lost his friend forever.

Katsuki jumps to his feet, rushes and grabs Uraraka by the shoulders in a panic.

Her eyes flash wide in fear and confusion for she’s never seen this man lose his cool like this. She cringes as he grips tightly to her frame. “Let go, you’re hurting me!”

“Tell me... TELL ME! Where did Deku go?! I need to find him!”

“Oww! Stop it!! Why should I tell you!!”

“Because... because...” when he realizes the fear in her eyes, his shoulders slump and he releases his grip with a heavy exhale. “Because I like him too, okay. I-I need to fix this... please.”

Ochako blinks as she rubs her shoulders, processing the sudden change in emotions. Was this hot head for real? Part of her screamed in favor of protecting her friend Izuku, but her heart was telling her this man was being genuine. She sighs, “I really don’t know exactly where he went. I’d barely got the story out of him when he heard you storm in and rushed out.”

Katsuki slumps to the floor cradling his face in his hands. “Then I’m screwed.”

“You know he’s bound to come back, right? There’s no way he’d miss school.” She reaches out tentatively and places a hand on his shoulder. When Katsuki doesn’t react, she relaxes. “Izu once told me there’s a place he goes to when he’s upset. Something about a river fort. I don’t know where that is, but maybe he went there?”

’The fort?!’ But it was already getting dark outside. “I know where it is,” he sighs and stands up. “Thanks, Uraraka,” he mumbles and sprints away.

While using their quirks outside of hero work was generally forbidden, it was faster than taking the train. He puts on a jacket and grabs an extra one, before heading out of UA for the river near their apartments in Musutafu. It’s been years since he’s been to the old fort, and he didn’t even know if it still existed. They’d built it when they were 5, 6, Katsuki couldn’t remember, but he would assume it’d been long ago demolished or destroyed by weather.

With the help of his quirks propulsion’s, he reaches the river in 10 minutes. By then, the sun had fully set, and the half-moon only provided minimal light through the trees. He uses a stick as a torch and traverses the riverbank to where he was sure the old structure would be.

“W-Who’s there!”

As Katsuki hears the voice, a flash of green light zips past him like a warning flare.

“If you don’t tell me who you are, I’ll send another one!” The voice calls out from the darkness.

“Oi, quit the light show, it’s just me.”

“Kacchan?!” What was he doing there?! “How’d you find me?”

“Gravity chick after she cussed me out. I just wanna talk Deku.”

“There’s nothing to talk about so please just leave me alone Kacchan. That’s the least you could do for me.”

The sorrow brimming in his crushes voice just ate away at his soul. Kami he was such an asshole who didn’t deserve forgiveness. But as much pain as they were both in, to walk away now would be the death of his better half. Katsuki sighs, “I can’t do that. So, if I leave, you’re coming with me.”

He hears Izuku suck in a draft of air as if preparing to do something. “I’m coming closer, so don’t you dare hit me,” the blonde warns, holding up his torch to light his way. A few feet further, he sees the worn wooden planks of the old fort and the vague outline of his friend sitting on one of the makeshift benches.

Izuku looks away as Katsuki drives the torch into the earthen ground and takes a seat at the other end of the bench. For once the chatty mouse was as silent as the grave the blonde felt like he was sitting in.

Katsuki looks at the ground, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t mean it Deku. What I said in anger... it wasn’t true.”

“Right,” the nerd rolls his eyes, “saying that I ruin your image wasn’t meant for me. Look I can’t hate you Kacchan but that doesn’t mean I’m not angry so, don’t lie to me. I’m through being your punching bag.”

Ouch that was like a kick to the groin. But the nerd was right, and he deserved much of the hostility being levied at him.

“I was afraid,” Katsuki responds with uncertainty. “Everything that happened I just wasn’t ready to face it.”

“Face what?” A snide retort. “An innocent interaction between two friends... oh I’m sorry, I forgot I’m not your friend, I’m just a means to an end for your image.”

“Oi, I’m trying not to be a dick for once! Damn it Deku I don’t hate you! Get it through that thick skull of yours! You’re not an enemy! I was upset that some jack ass on social media portrayed us as a couple when I hadn’t gotten around to talking to you about it first!”

“What are you trying to say Kacchan?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready for relationships yet, but this whole ordeal made me realize... what you really mean to me. Ugh!” Katsuki groans, “I fucking like you idiot, that’s the whole secret, okay? I just didn’t appreciate a troll blasting it online just to get likes.”

An uncomfortable silence grows with each ticking minute misfiring in the blonde’s head. He’d just poured his heart out, but Izuku still hasn’t responded and it was driving him insane. After about 10 minutes, he can’t take it anymore. “Well?! Aren’t you gonna say something?!”

The man’s voice was quiet, reflective in a way as if a great many things were on his mind. “I-I don’t know what to say Kacchan. You’ve been my crush since we were 10, but I never thought that it would become real.”

Katsuki palms his face, don’t tell him they’ve both been crushing on each other since primary school. They really were idiots in love.

He slides over on the bench noting the slight tremble of Izuku’s frame and covers his shoulders with the extra jacket he’d brought. The adrenaline of the evening was wearing down while the night air grew colder around them. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles as he wraps his arm around the man’s body. “I never meant to hurt you like that.”

Izuku’s body shudders lightly as his hands fly up to his face, and tears flow along his cheeks, covered in embarrassment from his overflow of emotions. It was all too surreal. Too dream-like that he feared it was just his imagination born in the dark of this childhood forest home. But as Katsuki’s hold increases, pulling the sobbing man closer, enfolding and pulling him against his chest, he knew it was real.

He holds his friend until the last vestiges of sorrow spill away and tears have dried. “You good now?” Katsuki whispers against the nerd’s neck, triggering a shiver. He feels the man nod, but keeps his face buried against his neck. The blonde smiles for the first real time that day. No one could predict where their future will go, but for now, he at least had his best friend back.

Several more minutes pass by as the two men simply sit in peace under the stars. Their light source was gone, but no longer necessary. Katsuki pulls away just enough without letting go. “We should go home,” he smiles and prompts Izuku. Wiping at the dry tear stains, he smooths his thumb over the nerd’s cherubic skin. “Don’t know ‘bout you, but I’m exhausted.”

Izuku’s cheeks flush with warmth, but he chuckles, bringing a wider grin to the blonde. “Y-yeah,” he smiles back. After everything that’s happened his reserves were running on empty too.

Katsuki gets to his feet and pulls the man up from the bench. He was feeling energized, freed with one less weight holding him down. So, what if anyone teases them when all that mattered was Izuku.

“Will you make another torch so we can find our way out?” The nerd queries his friend.

“Nah,” the blonde smirks, “got a better idea.” And before his friend can question further, he scoops the man in his arms like a bride crossing a threshold and maybe it was in a way, the threshold of a new future.

“Kacchan?”

“Hold on.”

He rockets the squealing man up and over the tree line, crossing the small river, and landing in the neighboring park.

“Kacchan you didn’t have to do that you know.” But the man just shrugs and puts him down.

“Felt like it. Now come on, you dork,” the blonde grabs his friend’s hand and intertwines their fingers, “I’m tired and starving.”

A renewed blush sweeps over Izuku from the intimate gesture. He squeezes his hand, “ok.”

They walk to the train station in companionable silence, each full of many more questions, but ones that could wait for another day. It wasn’t worth breaking the serenity of their newly found world.

’I wonder what our parents are gonna say,’ Izuku muses to himself. ’Are our nicknames... now pet names?’ That one almost causes him to snort in laughter. Kacchan was his... He looks down with a small smile of apropos bliss. It didn’t matter if there was a title or not, for this, he gives their hands a gentle squeeze, was enough for him.

Settled once more on a bench in a barren train car, Katsuki places his arm along the backing, letting his hand fall atop Izuku’s shoulder. “You gonna crash on me again?” The blonde teases. And as if on cue, a yawn erupts from the man before he could even finish asking.

“Sorry,” Izuku’s cheeks tinge pink in embarrassment. “I barely slept all weekend.”

“Tch,” Katsuki pushes the man’s head to rest on his shoulder, holding it in place, “it’s fine, idiot. I’ll wake you up when we get to our stop.”

“Thanks, Kacchan,” his eyes already heavy and drifting closed.

Remind him again why he fell in love with such a damn dork? He brushes strands away from Izuku’s eyes, smiling when his crush smiles in response. That’s why.

Katsuki takes out his phone to pass the time, but when his eyes fall on the photo app, clicks it instead of Instagram. He looks over at his lightly snoring partner and grins. The hand near Izuku’s head, holds up the middle finger, then with a quick press of the shutter, the blonde snaps a couple of selfies of the two of them.

Satisfied with the way it looks, he posts it to his Instagram, and tagging the original poster with a headline of his own: “Off Limits!”

#bakudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #Katsuki bakugou #Izuku midoriya #deku #kacchan #bakugou x midoriya #Katsuki x izuku #canon divergent #idiots in love I guess lol #bnha #bnha fan fic

29 notes · View notes

hank-mcdankblade · 5 years ago

Text

I Know A Bottom When I See One Princess (Part 2)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary

Chapter 1: You and Dean have been pals for as long as you can remember, practically raised together. Are things still the same as you remembered when you reconnect with him after a couple years apart? Well there is one thing you see differently and you’re about to call him out on it.

Chapter 2: After you flirt back with Dean you start to rethink all of your life choices. Why did you flirt back instead of making fun of him? God it would be so much easier if you were just a genderless blob. Hopefully the new supernatural case a friend of your mom’s gives you will distract you from all this romance mumbo jumbo.

Chapter 3: You and Dean both start to realize your feelings are not what you both originally anticipated them to be. If only you two could actually talk like adults instead of bantering like childish 8 year olds. The case picks up when you see a certain someone’s name over every case, a certain boomer’s name.

Chapter 4: You and Dean do some sleuthing into Chrissy’s apparent death. After learning the truth your trip to Wendy’s/Jack in the Box gets interrupted by Chief douchebag. Rick takes the three of you on a nice drive to the mountains to introduce you to his daughter.

Word Count: 4,697

Warnings: a fuck ton of swearing, self hatred, angst, fluff bits sort of

______________________________________________________________________

Ever since your little accusation of Dean, there’d been a little tension between the two of you. You were unsure of what kind of tension there was, or if there was even any to begin with. Surely Dean wasn’t upset about you teasing him, he’d let worse things roll off of his back without sparing a thought about it. Despite your doubts, your routine and friendship were pretty much the same in all regards. You still hunted together and made an awesome team. You still ate greasy food at establishments that barely deserved the title ‘Diner.’ And you still sang together to all his old music. So you were probably just over thinking things like you always did, but you still had an inkling that something was off about Dean.

Black and blue streaks painted the night sky with speckles of stars scattered across the canvas. The street lights outside cast pale yellow rays from the crack in the curtains that hit across the corner of Dean’s bed and stretched up the wall. The rays revealed to you the quilted pattern of the comforter and Dean’s duffel bag thrown haphazardly on the floor with clothes leaking out of it. Parts of the room not in direct contact with the light were in view as well. Traveling up his bed, you could see the curves of his cheek bones as he slept. Dean truly was beautiful. This was when he looked completely at peace, when he was asleep.

You turned to your side again, the bed rustling while you did. You had nightmares like most hunters did, but that wasn’t the reason why sleep evaded you tonight. After that night in the bar you basically cemented that you both had feelings for one another. Sure you and Dean flirted back and forth as a joke, but the other night was different. It was more real. What you had before was just your normal relationship. Dean shamelessly flirted with you and you made a joke out of it. It was your go to move to dodge his affections.

You didn’t really know how to respond to these advances from him, or anyone really at the moment. Your track record of relationships wasn’t the shiniest around and definitely nothing to brag about, most ending in either death or betrayal, but you were mostly scared to make things weird with Dean. He was your bud, your pal, your dude, any nickname that you could call a friend you’ve absolutely said it to him.

What would happen if you two did get together? A million and one questions popped into your mind when you thought about it, all ending with the same answer. Nothing good. It would be easier to play his flirting off as a joke to not hurt his feelings because relationships were nothing but trouble from your experience.

At first glance you’d think that Dean would never want to settle down and was content to have temporary lovers that lead nowhere, but he wanted what most people wanted, what you wanted too. True love. Pure and unadulterated love. But the bond you two shared was enough for you right now. You were ok with being alone, not that you really gave yourself much of a choice on the matter having sworn off relationships and meaningless nights with strangers. You couldn’t bring yourself to be with someone, not with the baggage you had strapped on your back. If anyone, hunter or not, saw the scar on your back you knew what they would say and the facial expression that would come with it.

If you let your walls down for even a single moment you would lean closer to Dean and let what might happen, happen. But the growing void inside refused to let you, God if he saw your scar he would look at you with disgust. It’s not the scar that would make him turn away, but the identity associated with it. Across your shoulder blades read a prophecy in Latin, burned into your skin the day your powers were activated. It was a symbol of your power and title. The curved letters created the prophecy of the Slayer reading;

“In omni generatione, est electus. Una puella in mundi. Et arte vires et solus geram et in surgere viribus a tenebris. Ad propagationem eorum mala prohibere et ad terras eorum numero. Quæ est Slayer.”

“Into every generation, there is a chosen one. One girl in all the world. She alone will wield the strength and skill to stand against the forces of darkness. To stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer.”

The night you got your scar was still fresh in your mind and could play back like a movie reel. It was an ordinary day just like any other. Your biggest problems were fitting in at your new high school, getting good grades, and avoiding whatever bullshit your mom was going to throw at you, but little did you know you had a big storm coming. The activation of a Slayer’s powers differs from Slayer to Slayer. Some feel nothing, others feel a tickle, but you experienced the worst burning pain you’d ever felt in your life. The moment the imaginary hot metal touched your skin a hellish scream was ripped from your throat. You swore you could feel your skin melt away to expose your bones. The pain was so white and intense that after only a couple of moments your body went limp as a way of protecting you.

For weeks the burning pain didn’t go away. The pain and scar served as a reminder that you would never lead a normal life. Never wear a strapless dress or swimsuit ever again. You could never let anyone touch your back. If they felt the raised skin on your upper back you knew they would have questions, and ones you couldn’t answer. It’s not everyday you see anyone with a large brand on their back, or a brand of any kind. But after the reveal the reactions were the same, eyes filled with pity and hands recoiling from disgust.

Dean would react the same way. He would look at you just like your mom did, nothing but a demon. I mean that is where you got your powers from as the Slayer, so you had to be a branch on the demon family tree. Dean hated demons more than anything in the world, so where did that put you in his eyes? Embers in your heart started to light at the thought of being related to scum, to vermin. Thoughts and fantasies of a normal life poured gasoline onto the fire until it burned away your entire existence.

“God damnit.” Hot air left your lungs as you sighed. The cardboard sheets of your bed pooled around your waist as you sat up. Your eyes were seemingly staring at nothing while you pondered what the hell to do now that you were awake. Your heart felt deflated like a popped balloon, crushed under the weight of your reality.

You would give both your legs and your entire movie collection to be able to sleep right now and forget about the harsh world outside the warm cocoon your hotel room proved to be. The desperate need to just sleep was choking you, making tears prick at your eyes.

“Hey, you ok?” Had you been more awake, Dean’s sudden interjection would’ve made you flinch. Your reflexes and actions were much slower as you turned to look at him lying on his back. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him half asleep, hair fluffy and eyes barely open.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” You asked in a rough voice. Your fingertips ran through your hair pulling it out of your face. Your eyelids fluttered closed in an attempt to concentrate on your breathing. Dean was taking his sweet time answering you. His eyes were scanning over your form. Your chin was perched atop one of your knees, arms around said leg while the other was stretched out under your covers. Your skin had been hardened by years of hunting, fingertips riddled with callouses from the weapons you’d handled. The only parts of you that were soft were hidden from sight. Dean also bet that your cheeks were soft, he had never had the chance to touch them but someday he’d like to. If you allowed it he would be able to stare at you for hours, trying to solve you like a Rubix cube. For the most part Dean could tell what you were thinking and feeling without second guessing himself, but there were always moments he was unable to read your body language.

He’s seen you in this state before, not too often but every once in a while. It was almost as if you were a statue, unmoving and barely talking. Whenever you were quiet he knew something was up. It was terrifying when you were quiet. At the pit of Dean’s chest an ache began to grow, he felt this way whenever he saw you like this. Physically there was nothing he could do, no mountain he could push or villain to defeat. This was something you had to work on your own in order to heal, and he understood that. But it didn’t make it suck any less watching you torture yourself internally when you were hit with these episodes.

“Need some company over there?” You held your breath for a moment mulling over Dean’s question. A familiar touch caressed your mind. This wasn’t the first time you’d been in this situation before. Nothing registered as contact on your skin, it was just numb.

“Yeah, I do.” Wordlessly, Dean padded over to your bed and lifted the covers. The shadows on his body moved with the light from the street lamps. There was a silent pact you two had to never bring up these nights, nights where you both needed some human contact with no questions asked.

Nights like these began after your activation. Dean had never seen you so upset before. As a teen he had no idea what to do, he probably still didn’t know now. But he knew that being held helped you and your mother was sure as hell not gonna do that for you. She was always too busy hunting with John. Truly those two were cut from the same cloth. Without the guidance from your parents you sought comfort in each other, and thus your silent pact was formed. Neither of you knew what the reason for this silence was, but nonetheless you kept it. Dean laid on his back with his arms open inviting you in, reminded of when you two used to do this before you left.

Feeling your head on his chest felt like home. A gentle surge of energy made his skin hum as you wrapped your arms around him. If there was anywhere Dean knew he was meant to be, it was here.

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

“G’night.”

And for the first time tonight, you actually slept.

Once the morning came around you and Dean were already on the road heading towards another case, Colorado to be more specific. You got a call from a friend of your mother. Her name was Jen and she worked as a park ranger for the Grand Mesa National Forest near Grand Junction. During the past couple of weeks, people had gone missing with no evidence left behind. Jen knew that this wasn’t a bear attack like the police claimed, so she called you and Dean for help. Of course you both accepted excited for a new adventure.

The Impala roared across the black pavement, kicking up rocks and zooming past trees so fast the leaves shook. In your opinion, the day was perfect. All across your part of the hemisphere the temperature was starting to drop. It was early October and the snow was starting to fall in a beautiful light drift, letting the wind decide its path. The ground was dusted with white sparkles that glittered in the sunlight. The snow wasn’t thick enough to build igloos out of just yet, but it was just thick enough to stick to the ground. You closed your eyes trying to absorb the environment’s good energy. Somehow you convinced Dean to roll the windows down and here you were with your head practically out of the window taking it all in. You were never sure why, but something about the cold air woke up your bones. Dean would always claim it was because you ran hot and then wink at you.

The negative energy was evaporating into the air to be turned into a beautiful white mosaic. The wonderful weather made you think that maybe someone was looking out for you. Maybe someone out there saw your rough night and decided to give you a break. Whatever the cause, you weren’t going to question it and were going to keep singing along to the Blue Oyster Cult CD Dean had in.

Dean looked over to you and committed the image to memory. No matter how many times he saw your smile it would never be enough. You were stretched out in the passenger seat with your shoes kicked off and jacket thrown in the backseat despite the low temperature. Seeing you beside him in the Impala brought on a flood of old memories. Dean wasn’t able to count the number of times Sam, him, and you drove to get ice-cream and dick around town just to get out of whatever motel you were stuck in at the moment. The three of you were inseparable as kids, always hanging out or messing with each other. But everything came to an end once you both turned eighteen.

By the time you had become the Slayer, your relationship with your mother was already strained. She was not the fuzziest person around and was certainly not fit to be a parent. The way she ended up in the hunting business was the same as John. Her husband got killed by demons and the rest was history. From then on she dragged you along on all her hunts and after a couple years she ran into John Winchester. The two made a surprisingly good team.

Your mother, Caroline, was always off putted by your existence it seemed. It was as if you were a burden to her, just extra luggage to haul around that reminded her of her late husband. There were never any bed time stories or hugs, just life lessons and the occasional pat on the back. At fourteen you considered yourself to be independent. You cooked for yourself, you took care of yourself, and with the help of Dean you were able to raise Sammy up to be a productive member of society. (Or dork as Dean would like to say) Your mother was barely around so it wasn’t a surprise that you grew up faster than you should have, but things only got harder after you received the call of the Slayer. Caroline resented you for what you were, even if she never voiced her opinion out loud. Her words were sharp and responses were short. You knew what she thought about you.

Dean never understood how a mother could do that to her child, her only child. Mothers, parents in general, were supposed to protect their kids. The day you left Dean swore he could feel his heart break in two. But as much as it hurt him to see you leave to start your own life in the big world, he knew why you needed to. He knew that you needed to get away from your mom’s abuse and passive aggressive attitude. But none of that mattered because you were here now and Dean was incredibly thankful to whoever brought you into his life again.

A violent buzzing on your thigh stole your attention away from the beautiful weather today brought you. You sat up from your seat and reached your hands forward, clasping them and stretching until you heard a few clicks from your joints. You stifled a yawn as you looked at your phone. “Hey Jen, yeah we’ll be there soon. No, no don’t worry. Alright. See ya.” Dean glanced over to you, silently asking you if everything was ok. “Jen’s just being paranoid. She thinks the police are gonna know that we’re up to something nefarious.”

“What does she think we’re gonna do? Show up holding a sign that says ‘Hey we’re definitely going to murder someone?’”

“You never know, those could come back in style.”

After another hour of driving, the Impala rolled onto a gravel driveway connected to a log built office. As you stepped out of the car the crisp air of the forest nipped at your skin waking you up. The gas and pollution of the cities made you appreciate the fresh air and scenic views before you. As far as the eye could see there were only trees that looked straight out of a Hallmark movie perfectly covered in snow. For the last month all you had seen was gray buildings. It was suffocating how many people squished themselves into one place that they called home.

Dead leaves and rocks crunched underneath your feet as you walked into the Park Ranger’s Office. A wave of hot air rushed past your cheeks as you stepped into the heated building. It was simple in structure having only four rooms, a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom and an office. The aesthetic was just as you had imagined it would be. The walls were covered with nature paraphernalia everywhere, with samples of tree leaves and forest fauna tacked onto poster board naming the different parts of the organism. Other parts of the wall were covered in maps and pictures of memories from years and decades ago, like a life size scrap book. The heels of your boots clacked against the wooden floor giving a signal to the workers inside that they had some company.

“Hello?” You called out. It’d been awhile since you saw Jen, so you weren’t sure what you were going to get. But after a few moments your voice was met with clunking boots and a familiar face.

“(Y/N)! Dean! Thank god you’re here, I’ve had enough of all the spooky shit going down here and would like to go back to fearing bears instead of monsters.” Jen said bounding towards you two with a smile. In her hands she was holding a manila folder that had papers sticking out in all different angles. You smiled feeling her bubbly energy, feeling yourself start to charge up a little after such a long drive.

“We’ll get you back to fearing those bears in no time. What do you have for us?” You asked stepping closer to get a look at the file Jen prepared, with Dean following your steps.

“The disappearances have been happening for years and only during the late fall and winter season, but no one talks about it.” Jen huffed out. She leaned against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed.

“The police usually just show up, ask their questions, and never do anything to solve the cases. Always claiming it’s bears. But I call bullshit, because bears only kill people when threatened or if they’re messing with their cubs. I doubt that many people would be stupid enough to play chicken with a bear. And even if they did end up dead bears bury their prey and feed on them until completely gone, but we haven’t found any evidence to support that claim. No body, no bears.” Jen’s description of the case was strange. Both you and Dean were already mentally working on a list of creatures to rule out in your hunt.

“Have you seen or smelled anything strange in those weeks?” Dean asked. He was thumbing through the file to see pictures of the site of the crime, narrow footprints on the ground, and trees scratched with bloody long claws. Jen looked at the ground, pulling her brows together in concentration as she thought back, willing her memories to give her some sort of clue to what happened here.

“Not that I can think of…” For a moment it looked like something clicked in Jen’s eyes. “Although….”

“Yeah?” Jen shook her head again dismissing herself. “Anything will help.”

Jen pulled her lips tight before answering you. “The claw marks I’ve noticed on the trees are odd.”

“How so?” Your partner asked stepping in.

“It’s not a huge difference from regular bear claw marks, but something feels off about them. The claw marks feel less like territory guarding and more like a result from an attack. If that makes any sense, they’re less precise.” You and Dean shared a look, almost as if you were telepathically sharing the same idea. Your gut was telling you already predictions of what was terrorizing the woods, but you wanted to get all the details before you jumped to conclusions. The case seemed like a pretty open and close shut one. You were about to thank Jen when the office door suddenly swung open. After a moment of panic, Dean quickly picked up the case file and hid it in the confines of his leather jacket. The door swung back hitting the wall with a loud smack revealing an older gentleman in a police uniform. His face was grim, every crease in his face probably from frowning so much. Your eyes looked to his breast pocket with the name tag, ‘Rick Sullivan, Police Chief.’

“Ms. Clinton, you’re not scaring the locals again with your fairy tails are you?” The policeman’s voice lacked any humor or sarcasm whatsoever. From the cadence of his words you could tell that this wasn’t the first time Jen had this conversation with him. Jen’s body language switched. She stood up straight with a stoic look on her face. Oh yeah, they had definitely met before. Jen bit her tongue, wanting so badly to tell him off and reveal to him the true nature of this world and watch as his face morphed into one of pure terror.

“Not at all,” Jen said, clipping her words as short as she could. “just telling these kids that now might not be the best time to go hiking. Ya know, what with the disappearances and all.” Her eyes narrowed slightly with a fake smile. She couldn’t help but get in at least one jab before the conversation ended. It was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. But at least with this option she was able to do what she wanted, regardless of the consequences. The police man, now known as Rick from his name tag, clenched his jaw. Tension built up into the air as the two stared at each other for a moment.

“Just some bears getting their energy out, nothing more than that. But regardless the department needs to check all the bases and I need the sign in form.” Jen breathed deeply, most likely to stop herself from saying anything else and walked out of the room to get the clipboard the office left out at the entrance on a pedestal for guests to sign in at.

“Is everything ok? We heard there were some people who went missing here.” You asked casually slipping your hand into Dean’s. The rush Dean felt from your skin touching his made his heart beat quicken. That familiar hum of energy traveled up his arm and dissipated into the rest of his body. He knew you were only doing it to protect your cover, but it still didn’t fail to make him nervous. Feeling some sort of magnetic pull, Dean moved closer to you. You would be lying if you said that playing this role didn’t feel natural to you. It was odd how easily you could slip into the role of a fake girlfriend, holding onto his arm and leaning your head on his shoulder.

Rick shook his head and sighed. “Nothing so dramatic happened here. We just have a few residents that like to stir things up and make trouble where there isn’t any. As long as you don’t hike where you shouldn’t be you should be fine.” He stated this like it was such an obvious fact that even a mouth breathing four year old would be able to see it. Rick seemed to think highly of himself, towering over you two in condescension. To him you two were just some dumb kids looking to cause him grief.

“Are you sure? We read that there wasn’t any damning evidence that pointed to a bear attack.” Dean butted in. Your grip on his hand tightened almost as a warning to get him to cut the attitude he was sporting. If it wasn’t in his voice, you could see it all on his face. Dean’s eyes were locked on Rick with his lips pursed. Of course that shit head had to have at least one word in on this, his personality wouldn’t have it any other way. He always had issues with authority, something you thought he picked up since he was always under John’s thumb.

Rick could sense Dean’s snarky attitude a mile away and reciprocated. His posture straightened even more, if possible, and he pulled his shoulders back. “Son, I’ve been on the force for damn near forty years. I think I know a bear attack when I see one.” You were sure if Dean uttered another word Rick would have him arrested just for being disrespectful. Truly the police chief before you was the epitome of the angry baby boomer’s generation, and Dean was just another millennial in his eyes here to ruin the diamond industry by spending all his money on avocados or not getting married.

You tugged on Dean’s arm wanting nothing more than to get out of here before the situation escalated. “Hey love, why don’t we head home and come back another time?” You asked leaning into Dean, affectively playing the part of the girlfriend. The two of you had everything you needed from Jen to start working on the case, and if you had any more questions you’d call her. Guess she wasn’t kidding when she mentioned over the phone that the cops around here were twitchy. Dean couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his lips looking at you clinging onto him. Fake or not he loved being able to have these moments with you.

“Sure thing sweetheart.” Dean’s eyes followed your figure as you lead him out of the door to the office, ignoring anything Rick Sullivan had to say to him.

Once you knew you were out of ear shot of the asshole back in the office you felt the need to speak up brewing inside you.

“You are going to get us arrested with that smart mouth of yours.” You poked at Dean. Looking over to him you saw a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. He didn’t regret a word he said. You both walked in sync to the car with clasped hands, no longer safe from the cold outside.

“Well my mouth could be doing other things if you want sweetheart.” Dean tugged on your hand, pulling you to him with a smirk. Your laughter filled the air as you shook your head.

“Like what? Complain and bitch about the cold? You are pretty good at that.” Rick’s crotchety behavior was long forgotten by the time you two got in the Impala. Yet again your rapport with Dean remained the same. Maybe harmless flirting was just your friendship and you were making too big of a deal about it. Analyzing your history with him did remind you that this dynamic of yours had been going on forever. Nothing came from it then, so maybe nothing will come from it now. The two of you settled back into the Impala to start yet another adventure into the supernatural world.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #dean winchester x reader smut #supernatural x reader #bottom dean #I know a bottom when I see one princess

105 notes · View notes

homenum-revelio-hq · 4 years ago

Photo

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Maggie!

You have been accepted for the role of HESTIA JONES! We love how you explored Hestia’s “gray” aspects. How she’s torn between doing “the right thing” knowing it’s outside the confines of the law, which she also finds incredibly important. How she’s positive and optimistic, but how that can be hard to maintain during war. We also loved your discussion of how pretty and feminine don’t equal dim - but that she often gets overlooked for it in a sexist world. That’s exactly what we were going for when we wrote her bio! So excited to have you part of the roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Maggie

AGE: 23

TIMEZONE: CEST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m a student, so I normally have a very flexible schedule with time to write. Sometimes things will be more hectic, in periods where I’m swarmed with essays or exams, but I always try to carve time out to get some replies done

ANYTHING ELSE: No triggers or anything. I have a few years of experience RPing on tumblr, and lately I’ve been in a similar role-play focusing on long-term character development and longer para-based writing.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Hestia Jones

AGE: 18

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisfemale, she / her. When it comes to sexuality, Hestia is still in the discovery phase. Currently, she identifies as heterosexual, although she has sometimes questioned it. While Hestia is the kind to get surface-level crushes easily, deeper feelings comes a lot rarer and she thus doesn’t feel like she has enough experience with love / attraction to sort out what exactly she’s feeling. Sometimes she finds girls pretty too, giving her heart the same flutter as pretty boys, but she’s unsure if that means she likes-likes them. Hestia has shrugged it off at the moment and reckons she can figure it out as she goes along.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Ravenclaw

ANY CHANGES: None

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

At a first glance, it’s easy to overlook Hestia. But only for a moment - and only if her mouth is closed. While Hestia’s never been the kind to chatter mindlessly, she’s never been the kind to ponder in silence either. Her way of interacting with the world has always been to question it and she learned early on that asking out loud might give her an answer.

She was never the child that could sit quietly for hours and play. She’d race through the house, through the backyard (and the streets if her parents didn’t catch her), a hurricane of braids and skirts, a million question bubbling at all times. Her parents learned quickly that it was better to let her test her abilities -magical and normal- under supervision. She was always an outgoing child, happy to make friends with anyone from the kid next door to the mailman walking past, and thrived when she started Hogwarts. There was no question Ravenclaw was the house for her, filled with other likeminded kids to encourage and challenge her.

Hestia is outspoken, sometimes coming of as abrasive when she get heated up. While she tries to avoid staring arguments, Hestia’s never been one to shy away from one either and is more than willing to defend herself - or someone else. It is easy to believe that if someone is kind, they’re a pushover, and if someone dresses prettily, they’re vapid - two assumptions that Hestia has rebelled hard against her entire life. She hates being dismissed for not wanting to trample over others, hates the idea of having to act cynical to be taken seriously. Hestia has a thousand thoughts and ideas, topics and questions brewing at any given moment. That doesn’t stop her from being kind, or from making friends. Most importantly, being feminine doesn’t make her less capable. As a child, she’d scoffed at the notion of having to chose between brains and beauty. She had scoffed - only to find it a trope that haunted her. While it was no doubt where she belonged once she started Hogwarts, and Hestia loved being in a house filled with likeminded people, she sometimes felt like she was hand waved away for not dropping parts of herself. Hestia made it difficult for anyone who talked to her to ignore her, but it didn’t stop her from getting into rows. More than anything, Hestia dislikes being underestimated.

One of Hestia’s issues is that she easily gets tunnel vision when it comes to solving problems, often seeing things as very black or white. Growing up in sleepy Scarborough, with a small population and an even smaller magical one, she was kept quite sheltered in terms of the problems in the wizarding world. Her parents explained the basics of how the magical world worked but avoided the issues of it - both for her sake and for theirs. They were content keeping to their corner and not rocking the boat. Hestia, as it would turn out, was not. Starting at Hogwarts taught her a lot of new things, including many of the injustices of the world that had been kept hidden from her. At eleven, it was vague concepts but the more she grew, the more she questioned, the clearer it became. As things grew bleaker as the dark side grew stronger, Hestia’s drive to do something grew as well. While she is clever, Hestia often doesn’t know when to stop- when it’s smart to walk away from an argument, when to admit defeat. It drove her into magical law, and later into joining the Order.

Hestia wants to do good. It’s one of her driving forces - clambering to fix at least a little corner of the world. To make something better for someone. But it’s difficult to keep an upbeat attitude when it feels like the world is determined to get a little worse each day. Sometimes it feels like pushing a rock up a hill, when the news keep pouring in and her efforts keep pouring out. It’s enough to chip away at the confidence of even the most chipper, optimistic person. And while Hestia is optimistic, she’s not naive. Some days it feels difficult to keep hope up, but she keeps fighting in the belief that if you keep pushing, something has to give. Even if it’s just the tiniest pebble. So Hestia keeps going, even on the days when the world keeps kicking when you’re down. She has always been stubborn, and she has never backed away from a fight before - so why stop when it’s something that matters?

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Hestia was the not quite planned, but more than welcome kid. Her father, Richard, was working as an editor for a publication focusing on magical authors and her mother, Delia, had just started working as an English teacher at the local muggle school. Hestia came with a bang; faster and with a bit more drama than either of them had expected, and it set the precedent. She was always a curious child, defying both muggle and magical child-proofings as she climbed across the house. Both her parents discovered quickly that the best way to keep her still was by distracting her through making her think. Delia would bring home puzzles, growing more complex as Hestia did, and Richard would fire off riddles and questions, pushing her to think outside the box and work her way through problems. As she grew older she would, in return, come up with her own riddles.

As a child, Hestia never ran out of questions. Her mom liked to joke that her first word was ‘why’, and that at the very least it was her favourite word. Hestia didn’t just want to know about why things happened - she wanted to know how they functioned as it did. How did the sky change colours? Why did birds fly certain places, how did their wings work, how did they know where to go? How did rain form, how did she grow?

If her parents ever grew tired of her constant stream of questions, they never showed it. They explained what they could when they had time, encouraging her to explore the reasoning of the world they lived in. If Hestia’s favourite phrase was ‘how does this work’, her father’s was ‘let’s find out’. When she grew older and her questions became more complex, he taught her how to navigate information and find answers. Every Saturday, he would take her to the library, where she’d spend hours browsing for books containing whatever topic that had caught her that week. They’d find enough books to tide her over until the next weekend. Hestia has many fond memories of sitting next to her mother while she graded papers and tests, reading her books and sharing the most interesting bits. While her parents might have been hesitant towards her experimenting with magic, trying to understand that part of herself, they never stopped her from learning.

While Hestia still loves her parents very much, her relationship with them started changing as she grew older. Her bubble expanded the day she went to Hogwarts, opening her view to the topics her parents had skirted away from. Her questions about the world became more difficult, and for the first time her parents didn’t have any way to help her find answers. Even worse, they didn’t want to. How come the wizarding world has such deep-rooted issues? Why did so many stay content knowing about the prejudice and injustice that ran rampant? It started as innocent questions once it became clear to 11 year old Hestia how important blood purity was to so many, and evolved as she grew older. Hestia did as her father had taught her -finding answers by looking for them- and that was how her interest for magical law started.

Her relationships to her parents kept changing as she grew, and it reached a new foothold when she graduated. They were delighted when she got an internship at the Department of Magical Law, happy that their daughter was reaching high and aligning herself with the Ministry. They are none the wiser about her involvement with the Order, and Hestia intends to keep it that way. She has distanced herself from them after joining; a part of her feels guilty keeping such a large secret from them, and even more so about putting them in potential danger through association with her. So it’s easier to not talk about it. She knows they would be horrified at her involvement - her parents that she loves so much, but that will always prefer to avoid the hard questions, to look away. It is a difficult process, growing up and realizing that your parents are just humans, with flaws and problems, and Hestia is still learning to navigate this new landscape.

OCCUPATION:

Hestia is currently an intern at the Department of Magical Law. She is just starting out and trying to find her footing, bouncing around doing the paperwork and research reading. While she hasn’t quite worked her way up to getting to handle any of the important cases -or a permanent position for that sake- Hestia loves her job and is determined to plant her roots in the department. She leaps at the chance to be given any kind of responsibility, taking on anything from coffee-runs to extra work. Hestia knows how it goes, and is determined to work her way upward through hard work - and she’ll do it all with a smile.

Her interest in law-work started around her fifth year, when it was time to start considering where she wanted her life to go post-Hogwarts. Hestia had always known that she wanted to have a job that challenged her, and she had always dreamt of having a job that mattered. Certain parts of the wizarding world had always bothered her and a childish part of her had always dreamed of helping to fix it. While researching careers and stumbling over the Department of Magical Law, Hestia started playing with the idea of making her childish dream a reality. It became clear what she wanted to do and she has geared towards it since. She thinks its perfect for her; not only does she get to be a part of something bigger, trying to make the world better through legal channels, but she also gets to spend her days pouring over texts, finding arguments and logic nestles within pages. While she is a long way from being able to lobby for dismantling the outdated laws, she’ll get there some day.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Hestia is on the newer side of the Order, still on the low-level and trying to find how her talents are best put to use. She contributes where she can, coming up with ideas and suggestions, joining the missions she’s asked to. While Hestia does believe in the work they do, she still harbors some conflicted feelings. Her work is within the law -the law that she truly believes can be fixed if enough good minds keep working on it- and it feels hypocritical to be a part of a group that’s outside of it, even if she’s working towards the same goal with both the Order and her job. Then there’s the question of what would happen if she got caught; her Order involvement could jeopardize the good she can do from within the Ministry. When first asked to join, Hestia hesitated, considering the risk and gains. In the Department of Magical Law, she could create long-term groundwork to help future generations, which would stop if she got arrested. In the end, Hestia decided that while fixing magical laws to prevent future discriminations is important, it would take too long. People are being killed now, muggleborns are running for their lives now.

While she doesn’t regret her decision, that doesn’t mean her involvement has been smooth sailing either. First of all, there’s the issue of clashing with some of the other members. Hestia hates being dismissed and passed over for her appearance, hates having good ideas waved away or being bossed around. While Hestia likes to be friendly, it doesn’t mean that she’s going to let people step on her either. Then there’s the Order itself. Hestia has by all means lived a pretty sheltered life, and is fresh out of school with a good amount of youthful optimism. She still sees things as pretty black and white - even if she’s part of an illegal group, it’s the right thing to do in her eyes. She has strong ideals, that gets a bit more challenged each day. Hestia is slowly coming to terms with the world -and particularly the Order- being a lot more grey than she thought. That doesn’t mean that some of their work sit easy with her. Especially recent deaths make her uneasy, making her views of what is right more difficult. Hestia knew that the Order is desperate, weary, but how far are they willing to go to to make the overall situation better? Where do they draw the line? Where does she?

SURVIVAL:

Hestia’s work is her survival. It’s her distraction, her alibi, her sanity. While she has no doubt that joining the Order was the right move, it still makes her feel uneasy standing opposite the law - even when it’s the right thing to do. So she throws herself at her work, compensating her work outside the law by working hard within it. It gives her comfort when things look bleak within the Order, to know that she can help in another way. If the Order’s mission fail, Merlin forbid, then the law will still be there. Chipped and with its flaws, it’s still there. It can be worked on, it can be improved.

It also makes her look inconspicuous. Hestia’s hopes are that someone so dedicated to the laws and rules of the wizarding world won’t arise suspicion of being in the Order. If her presence is missed or she has to reject a social advance, she’ll cite mountains of paperwork as a reason for staying home, joking that interns are always given the worst tasks nobody else wants to take on. Still, she takes precautions to not be associated with the vigilante group. She likes to travel around when she’s not working, making it less suspicious to rarely be seen around her flat in Queensway. She avoids the topic of the Order when she can, content to shake her head in disapproval or tsk as she knows how oftentimes choosing words too carefully says more than you intend to.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Hestia is desperately trying to manage her relationships but it’s difficult. She navigates different spheres, there’s her normal friends, her work friends, the Order and her family - all of which are taking hits. Hestia has a lot on her plate. Time-wise, the Ministry takes a huge chunk of her days, and she is working hard to not neglect her Order position either. Then there is the Order itself. Outside it, Hestia is navigating how to keep it at a distance. It’s difficult to have deep, meaningful conversations when you’re afraid that you’ll slip up, say something wrong that raises suspicion, especially in this world where the wrong person learning the wrong thing can be disastrous. There’s the guilt of lying, of putting her loved ones in danger.

Then there’s the war, the weight of being involved with it. There’s this weight on her shoulders, that demands so much of her time and mentality, that she can’t talk to anyone about outside the Order. While she is making friends within it, she’s also arguing with others. Arguments she can’t vent about. The people she does like have enough on their plate and friendships are difficult when you’re worried about overloading them.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: My main basis for ships / anti-ships is chemistry. I rarely go in with ideas of ships beforehand, preferring to see how relationships and chemistry evolves.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Hestia always sort of fell in-between when it comes to this point, having the sort of privilege that you don’t necessarily recognize until you look back. Her family wasn’t swimming in money and prestige like some of the wizarding families, and neither did she have the pure blood that is lauded. But as a half-blood, she didn’t fall lowest on the pecking order, with enough magic in her veins to not have to worry about being targeted for her muggle part - at least not in the way muggleborns have to worry about. Neither did her family really struggle. While the Joneses didn’t have manors and summer homes, they had a steady house in a good neighborhood. Hestia never had to worry about things like food or new clothes, there were no difficulties when she needed school supplies.

When it comes to biases, Hestia, like everyone else, has a few built in. While she is eager to work for a more just society, it is a bit harder to shed the feelings that’s been instilled in her - some that she might not even recognize. She grew up with stories and warnings that integrated themselves as part of her worldview (stay in your bed during the full moon, lest werewolves eat you, careful in forests for giants have to qualms eating you) and it’s difficult to shed biases when you don’t necessarily recognize them as such.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

Is saying ‘absolutely everything’ a lazy answer? Because my answer is Absolutely Everything. First of all, I think this rp has such an interesting plot and I absolutely love the premise. I think it sounds so fun to write within this world, explore the shades of grey. Second, I really love the focus on deeper character explorations and the style of longer paras (once you’ve been in one lsrp, you can’t go back). Third, everyone seems so nice and good writing partners are worth their weight in gold.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): Not at the moment, sorry!

ANYTHING ELSE?: This got a bit longer than intended, but thanks for reading!

#homenumaccepted

3 notes · View notes

marshmallow-phd · 6 years ago

Text

Innocent Intentions

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Tao x Reader

Summary: There was one thing you couldn’t stand in all your years at college: playboys. And the campus was riddled with them. So when Tao - a player with a particularly well-known reputation - inserts himself into your life, you come up with a plan to get rid of him, whether he makes your heart race or not. But the more he’s the around, the more you just might find there’s a hidden layer underneath all the rumors, including a secret you never could have guessed….

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

“Honey? (y/n), honey, are you feeling any better?

You groaned, flipping over to your stomach to bury your face in the musky smelling pillow. The scent filled your nose and you smiled happily to yourself. Cold fingers brushed up against your forehead, making you shiver. Reluctantly, you peeled open your eyes to see your mom hovering over you from the back of the couch.

“Hey, there, sleepyhead,” she giggled at you.

With another groan, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position. Did you dream that whole thing with Tao?

No. The bowl of soup was still sitting on the coffee table and your brain was connecting the smell left behind on the fabric of your pillow to the scent that you’d picked up on Tao’s shirt. Where the hell did he go?

“I’m glad you finally got some sleep,” your mom stated as she started for the kitchen. “Do you want me to warm this broth up for you?”

“No, that’s okay,” you said loudly before a yawn stretched out your face.

The fact that your mother wasn’t questioning another person being in her house while she was gone must have meant that Tao left before she arrived. But did he leave because she came home? Or was it because you falling asleep with your arms wrapped around him was already making him uneasy? You snorted to yourself. If it was the latter, then this whole “scaring him away” tactic might be easier than you thought.

However, you were going to have to be careful. You fell asleep too easily in his arms. Sure, it could be blamed on the fact that you were sick and your body was already exhausted so that sleep was inevitable, but you’d been trying to sleep all day and nothing – not even the strong cold medicine – had knocked you out. The way your head just seemed to fit so comfortably against his chest… admittedly, it scared you a bit. You liked it too much.

You’ll be happy when he’s out of your hair, you told yourself. Your life was perfectly fine before you’d ever heard the name “Tao” and it would be perfectly fine after he was long gone.

But a nagging feeling still pulled at your stomach, so you did what came naturally to you once you came to a dilemma, and turned to your mother for help.

When you shuffled into the kitchen – hesitating almost as if you didn’t want her to spot you – your mother was getting started on dinner for her and your father, the broth sitting in a plastic container off to the side and away from the heat.

“Did you change your mind about the soup?” your mother asked as you sat down at the kitchen island.

You shook your head. “No, I’m okay for right now.” After that, you didn’t elaborate, instead swirling your finger around on the shiny, smooth granite, drawing nonsensical pictures out of the different colors.

Knife in hand, your mother set up her chopping board and began to dice the tomatoes and peppers laying off to her left. “Is something bothering you, sweetie?”

Darn that motherly intuition.

“No,” you replied automatically. But that was dumb and counter-intuitive to your object. “Actually, yeah….”

Your mother snickered at your hesitancy. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You blew a raspberry before finally giving in. “Yeah, kind of. I guess….” But there you went, stopping yourself again. Whimpering, you let your head fall down to the counter with a muffled thump.

“Oh goodness,” your mother laughed. “This must be serious. I haven’t seen you this flustered since you found out you had to kiss Devon Trinket in that school play.”

At the mention of your high school theater days, you snapped your head up, eyes narrowed at her for daring to bring that up.

Drama was just supposed to be a fun extracurricular activity that didn’t involve sports in any way. And you enjoyed it, whether you were behind the scenes or on the stage. But the fact that your first kiss had to be fake and on display for the audience to see had been mortifying. Up until that opening night, you’d come up with every excuse to not have to kiss him – from a cold sore to a particularly smelly lunch – but the inevitable could not be avoided forever. To this day, you cringed at how unromantic and awkward it had been. There was supposed to be a silent pact within the family to never mention it again, but apparently your mother had forgotten that.

“What’s on your mind, sweetie?” your mother asked in a more serious tone.

“Well-” How the hell were you supposed to explain this? “There’s this guy….”

Your mother’s eyebrows jumped right up to her hairline. “A guy?” She teasingly felt your forehead. “Wow, you must be sick.”

“Stop,” you whined as you pushed her hand away. “I’m being serious.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she sighed as she patted your head. Even as you were about to graduate college, she still treated you like her little girl, teasing and affectionate gestures and all. “So, is this a guy you have feelings for?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” you countered quickly. “But… he did say that he likes me. Very bluntly, actually.” That had certainly never happened to you before. There was an incident where one of you classmates in your second year of high school had slid you a note, but since you didn’t feel the same way, you took the awkward way out and just pretended that it never happened. He never said anything to you again about it either, so it was probably for the best.

“And you’re not sure that you like him back?”

You shook your head. “I don’t. I know I don’t like him. Or… at least, I don’t think I do. I don’t know him well enough. But I do know that he’s a total player. Like, his reputation is infamous on campus.”

“And so you don’t know if he was being sincere when he told you?”

You nodded. “I mean, it seemed sincere, but I don’t know how good of an actor this guy is. I could just be another notch in his belt and I refuse to allow myself to become a laughing stock.”

With sympathetic eyes, your mother smiled at you. Unfortunately, that look didn’t seem to be meant for you. “I’m not going to say that a guy can meet a girl and just magically change. I will never say that… but, you are very special, love, with a warm heart. It’s possible that – while not completely changed – he might have genuine feelings for you.”

“So you want me to just dive head first into this thing?” you exclaimed.

“No, no,” your mother chuckled. “I’m saying don’t completely dismiss him. Keep him at arm’s length, but maybe also give him a chance to try. You might be surprised. Guard your heart, but let him show you his. If he ends up not being genuine, then you do what you do best – pick yourself up, brush it off, and hold your head high.”

You let out a long sihg, taking in every word.

She had a point. She had several points, actually. And – at a base level, at least – she was basically telling you to do what you’d already decided on.

Okay, so the whole you kind of overdoing it and making him feel trapped in a committed relationship until he ran for the hills thing didn’t exactly line up with what your mother was saying, but still. She was telling you to let him try. So, you would. But there was no way in hell Kendall was to find out about this. At all. Even if you tried to explain that you weren’t really seeing Tao like that, she’d explode. Her feelings were hurt easily whether she pretended to be over something or not and in the long run, you’d rather have your friend than a boyfriend who’d just leave anyway.

As you slipped off the stool and gave your mother a hug, your mind was swirling in every direction. For now, you decided it was best to not dwell on it in your current sickly state. Trudging back to the living room to maybe try and go back to sleep, you couldn’t help but think about how sweet Tao had been towards you. Being babied and fussed over was something you hated and yet, you let him do exactly that. And you kind of liked it. Even now, the thought of him holding you while you drifted off to sleep was making your cheeks warm.

You were absolutely losing it.

You were not the least bit surprised when you walked into the lab and saw Tao’s name scribbled in for your entire session for the day. What did surprise you, however, was the fact that he was early, already sitting at the table, book cracked open and eyes scanning the page. Or at least, he was making it look like he was reading the book. You couldn’t be too entirely sure whether he was really studying or not.

Whoa. You took a metaphorical step back. Was that too harsh? Thinking that he most likely was just pretending to be looking over the textbook instead of actually reading it? Did you already have that bad of an impression of him?

To be honest, Tao didn’t seem as lost as the other students you’d helped in the past. From what you experienced during your last session, after you explained it once at a slower pace than the teacher normally would, he seemed to understand and you moved on to the next section. Was he-

Shaking your head, you started towards the table. Whatever. He could do what he wanted. You got a small check from it anyway.

“Are you feeling better?” Tao asked in a warm voice as you sat down next to him.

You nodded, keeping your eyes down as you pulled the textbook closer to you. “Yeah, much better.”

“Good.”

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you fought against the urge to smile. Tao’s voice conveyed a relief at your acknowledgement of getting over whatever ailment you had as if you’d just gone through a major surgery without any hiccups. It was just the flu. And he was the one who ditched you while you were sleeping.

“Why did you leave without waking me up?” you snapped, a little more forceful than you’d anticipated it being. You weren’t hurt that he didn’t say goodbye… not at all! It definitely wasn’t something you found yourself stewing over throughout the weekend.

Indifferent, (y/n). You’re supposed to be indifferent.

“I didn’t think that’d be the best way for me to meet your mom,” Tao smirked.

You let out a fake laugh. “Are you insinuating that at some point you’ll be meeting my parents?”

He shrugged. “It’s bound to happen at some point, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed. He would never get that far. Right? “Okay, homework time.”

“That’s right,” Tao shifted his chair so he was angled more towards you, “you’re stuck with me for the next three hours.”

A triumphant smile flashed across your face. “Actually, our session’s being cut in half today. I have to leave before three.”

Tao’s face fell, a strangely cute pout forming on his lips. “What? Why?”

“Since I was sick last Friday, I’m picking up a few extra hours at the shelter,” you explained. When he huffed at the statement, you rolled your eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ve already signed up for my entire slot on Friday.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “Wait. What?”

Chuckling, Tao leaned in close to you. “Gonna miss me if I decide to skip?”

With a single index finger against his forehead, you pushed Tao back until he was out of your bubble again. “No, not really. In fact, I think it’ll be kind of nice.”

Grumbling under his breath, Tao turned to the textbook and started reading aloud. You pressed your lips together tightly to keep from laughing. This constant push-pull, rile each other up contest going on between the two of you was becoming a little too much fun. Tao’s reactions to your rejects and dodges were the best entertainment you’d come across in a long while.

For the next hour and a half, the focus remained on the homework that Tao was supposedly struggling with. As time went on, Tao didn’t seem to be putting in much effort into pretending he didn’t get it. In fact, at one point, you found a problem that was done so perfectly that you’d just assumed it was done wrong and ended up with an incorrect answer yourself. Tao grinned brightly, but if any sarcastic remarks were bouncing around in his head, he kept them to himself.

It was strange, how much you were actually hating the fact that the minutes clicked closer to the time you needed to leave. This was definitely a side of Tao that you enjoyed. With him being… normal, not flirty or overly caring or snarky. Just being himself.

Or what you hoped was himself.

“Tao? What the hell are you doing in here?”

Both of your heads jerked up at the intrusion, Tao’s face remaining stoic and uninterested while your own pinched in confusion.

A very tall, leggy, super-model-type girl who you vaguely recognized as one of the volleyball players was standing on the other side of the table, hand on her jetted-out hip. There seemed to be an air of superiority radiating from her, but more than likely that was you and your ill-conceived prejudices projecting it on her. For all you know, she was probably a very nice person. However, you kind of wanted her to go away.

“What do you mean, Anica?” Tao asked. His voice was lower than normal, almost growl-like. “I’m here to get a better understanding of my mathematics lesson.”

“Since when do you need help with math?” the volleyball player named Anica snapped back. “You aced every test last semester even after spending the entire night with me.” A feline-like smile curved up one of the corners of her lips as she leaned in extra close to Tao as if you were completely invisible. “Speaking of which, I kind of miss those nights. And it’s not volleyball season anymore, so I’m free any time.”

Tao seemed completely unfazed. “Not interested.”

Anica straightened up with a huff. Her eyes zeroed in on the lack of space between you and Tao. “So, what? You’re sinking this low now? Whatever.” She turned her icy stare towards you. “Have fun screwing Tao. Just don’t expect much once he drops you. Poor thing gets bored very easily.”

Tao’s chair nearly flung across the room as he jumped up to his feet, a strange growl rumbling in his chest. Anica blinked, a little bit of fear in her eyes, but not as much as you conveyed. You wouldn’t even had thought it possible for Tao to explode like that. While her words certainly cut deep, there was no faliable reason for Tao react in this way. Anica rolled her eyes before walking away.

You wasted no time gathering up your notebook and papers, shoving them into your bag and rising to your own feet. You didn’t want to be here anymore. Not even looking at Tao, you started for the door.

“(y/n), wait!”

Tao caught up to you, blocking your way to freedom from this embarrassing scene. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other students sneaking glances at the piece of entertainment happening in their vicinity.

“Move,” you ordered through clenched teeth. “I have to get to the shelter. I’m going to be late.”

“Listen to me first-”

But you had no intentions of listening to whatever nonsense he was about to spout out. You managed to squeeze through the space between Tao and the door frame, out into the hallway where you were practically running across the tile.

Tao didn’t catch up to you until you jumped into your car, roaring the engine to life. He slapped his hand against the window, calling out your name repeatedly. He just wouldn’t give up, would he?

You sped off, tires squealing and vehicle vibrating as you headed out of the parking lot, probably cutting off a few other motorists who really had the right-of-way. When you reached the shelter, you killed the engine and fell back into your seat, releasing all the tension that you’d been storing in your muscles with a heavy sigh. What Anica said really shouldn’t be bothering you like this. But it just made the whole ordeal with Tao even more confusing.

Why had he honed in on you? You weren’t anything like any of the girls he’d supposedly been with in the past. Hell, you weren’t even like Kendall. So why did he target you? If this was really some game, then you just wanted him to stop. You wanted him to go away. Because keeping him at arm’s length, staying guarded and not giving in trusting him completely was becoming too hard.

You just didn’t know how to handle something like this. You weren’t equipped with the tools to navigate this sort of board game; you were hardly good at checkers and so far this felt like the world championship of chess that you were just thrown into as a last minute replacement. All the pieces were in Tao’s hands and you had no idea what your next move should be. Running away seemed like your only option. Being done with the whole seemed to be the only way to save yourself.

Letting out another sigh, you took the keys out of the ignition and willed yourself to out of the car.

“So, are you ready to listen now?”

“Shit!” You jumped at the sound of Tao’s voice coming from behind you.

He was leaning against the hood of a red convertible that definitely didn’t belong to any of the employees inside the shelter. Why were you not surprised at his car of choice?

Out of pure instinct, you looked around the parking lot, knowing full well where he came from, but still stunned at his presence. “Did you seriously follow me all the way here?”

“Yes,” Tao stated before pushing off the hood and stalking up to you. “Because you need to know that Anica is full of crap. Did we hook up once or twice? Yes, but that has nothing to do with us now.”

“Us?” you scoffed. “Tao, there is no us. I was tutoring you in math, but you obviously don’t need the help. If you keep insisting that you need help, then I know several other tutors in the math lab that have open slots.” Not wanting to hear any sort of response, you turned on the balls of your feet and headed for the entrance. But Tao stopped you with a hand around your upper arm, whirling you back around.

“Whatever happened to giving me a chance to prove to you that I’m telling the truth?”

Teeth clenched and fists balled at your side, you snapped, “I’m done playing whatever kind of game you have going on, whatever fake intentions you have. There are plenty of other women on campus who will gladly take you back, go to one of them!”

“I’m not playing a game! My intentions are sincere!” But even at his own insistence, he let you go, telling you that maybe he wasn’t as in this as he was expressing in the moment. Until he passed you and walked right up to the shelter’s front doors.

Now it was your turn to stop him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you think you’re doing?”

He smirked at you, leaning in close with his gaze steadily on yours. “Proving it.”

And then he just swung the door open and marched right on in. At least he waited for you in the hallway instead of waltzing in to a random classroom. He stayed close on your heels, not letting you get too far away. Fine. There wasn’t too much you could do about the situation, anyway.

When you walked into the room with Mrs. Choi and your favorite kids, you waited for the possible fallout of your unannounced visitor. Mrs. Choi was picky about the volunteers who worked in the shelter. She wanted to make sure they’d be good influences on the kids, leading them down productive paths and bettering themselves outside of their circumstances.

“Well, I don’t believe it,” Mrs. Choi gasped.

You cringed. “Mrs. Choi, I am so sorry-”

But she walked right on past you to Tao, throwing her arms around him and rocking him back and forth happily.

“Tao, you’ve grown up so much!” she chuckled. Pulling back, she kept her hands on his shoulders, staring up at him with pride-filled eyes. “Why haven’t you come to visit sooner?”

You stared at the two of them slack-jawed. This was so not happening right now.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged shyly. “I went traveling for a bit, came back to finish school.”

“Well, at least you’ve finally came to say hi.” Mrs. Choi turned to you. “Do the two of you know each other?”

“(y/n)’s been helping me with homework,” Tao loosely explained.

Mrs. Choi was smiling more than you’d ever seen her do so before. “Oh, how nice! You are welcome to stay as long as you want. None of these kids were here when you last came by, but feel free to introduce yourself. And don’t be a stranger!” She looked to you. “(y/n), the kids are working on their multiplication tables if you want to go around and check their work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mumbled, walking off in a daze. Tao followed you and the children seemed to light up at the new potential. They were fascinated by the blonde stranger who would crouch down to their level and genuinely listen to them as they rattled on their cute stories.

At one point, you were so engrossed in trying to explain how to find the multiples of nine on their fingers to a table of very excited and talkative children that you didn’t notice at first when Tao had walked away. It wasn’t until Tony kept looking over your shoulder at something that you noticed the absence.

Following Tony’s gaze, you gasped quietly. Tao was off in the corner of the room, slowly walking up to Daeyoung. You watched with anxiety-ridden nerves as he approached the boy, crouching down and waving.

Daeyoung ignored him at first, keeping his focus on the crayon on his hand as he drew random shapes on the construction paper. Instead of forcing a conversation, however, Tao simply picked up another crayon and started drawing on his own piece of paper. A few minutes went by of just the two of them coloring in their own separate worlds until Daeyoung picked up a pink crayon and handed it to Tao without a word. Tao thanked him and went on coloring.

Then Daeyoung pointed towards the door that lead to the playground outside. No one else was out there since recess time was long over and it would be another hour or so before free time started. Taking Daeyoung’s hand, Tao led him through the door. You jumped up and ran after them. Daeyoung was a delicate child and you were worried that he might go into one of his fits if Tao wasn’t careful. But as you leaned against the door frame, you stared in awe as Tao simply helped Daeyoung onto the swing and gently pushed from behind.

Fifteen or twenty minutes went by with you just standing there, watching the two of them play on the swing, Daeyoung even letting out a few giggles that you hadn’t heard before.

Mrs. Choi came up behind you and whispered, “He was always good with the kids who had special needs.” At your questioning look, she explained, “He used to volunteer here several years ago, when he was in high school. I think his older brothers wanted him to stay out of trouble. But I don’t think that boy could really get into anything bad. He’s too soft. His heart is too warm. He was always a little guarded, but it's nice to see him smile like that.”

“He has a nice smile,” you admitted a little shamefully.

“He’s a nice boy.”

There was no missing Mrs. Choi’s indication behind her words, but she walked away before you could reply. Perhaps… well, maybe she had a point. Seeing this side of Tao was throwing you off. When he declared that he’d prove to you that he wasn’t simply the playboy the rumors made him out to be, you didn’t think he’d actually succeed in doing it. And yet, here he was, showing you another side that you were finding attractive. Very attractive, indeed.

At the end of your shift at the shelter, you were still a little speechless at Tao’s ability to connect with Daeyoung so quickly, so easily. You hadn’t said a word to him when they came back inside just before free time, but he’d certainly caught you staring when he helped Daeyoung eat his dinner.

Outside, Tao stopped you before you could reach your car.

“Still think I’m a bad guy?”

You huffed, biting down on the inside of your cheek so harshly you were sure you’d draw blood. But you didn’t want to smile like the giggly school girl that was bouncing around in your mind at the moment. “I never used the words ‘bad guy’.” You kept your gaze down on your keys that you were fiddling with in your hands. “But that was really sweet how you spent time with Daeyoung.”

“He’s a good kid,” Tao smiled. “Smart, too. You just have to know how to communicate in their way.”

“Mrs. Choi said you’ve had a lot of practice with that.”

“Just a little.”

A silence fell between you two. What was supposed to happen now? You kind of wanted to get in your car so you could have room to breathe again, but you also wanted to stay right there with Tao.

Actually, you didn’t want to just stay there. You kind of wanted to hug him, placing your head against his chest again. He was melting you right there on the asphalt without even trying. But you fought the urge, surprising yourself at not giving in.

“(y/n)?”

You looked up at Tao. “Yes?”

With a hesitant hand, he reached up, the very tips of his thumb and fingers barely brushing against your cheek. His face lowered, coming closer to yours. Was he actually going to kiss you?

In a panic, you dropped your keys, quickly bending down to get them and dodging the possible lip-lock. Disappoint was evident all over his face, but he didn’t push or try again. No matter how sweet he’d been over the last few hours, you weren’t ready for that little step.

“I’ll see you later,” Tao sighed as he took a step back. “Drive safe.”

You nodded. “You, too.”

Shaking his head, Tao walked away and hopped over the door into the driver’s seat. Admittedly, that move kind of made your heart jump, but you were able to recover as he drove away.

It was time to be honest with yourself. You were falling for this boy. All it took was a few sweet moments and you were doomed. He was more determined than you’d previously thought. At this point, you didn’t think he’d run away as easily as you’d planned. And, staying on that honest train, you didn’t want him to run away. You wanted him to run towards you, only you.

Yeah, you were in trouble big time.

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #tao x reader #huang zitao #z.tao #tao #exo series #exo supernatural au #Innocent Intentions #untamed wolf universe

426 notes · View notes

reddieforakiss · 7 years ago

Note

can u pretty please do either a sleepover realization of feels for reddie or just them being adorable and in love at school?? i would love that sm:))

Love the sleep over idea!! also holdin’ onto the school idea for later

We Belong (belong together)

//A Reddie Sleepover Fic (rated T)

- the boys are 17// content warning for light underage drinking and passionate smoochin

- 3,669 WORDS

( this song will come in handy to get the full feel later on in the fic, so i suggest you listen to it either before, during, or after)

———————————————————————

It was a Saturday night and Richie Tozier was straightening his room, Eddie was coming over soon and he wanted the room to look nice (well as nice as a mess like that it could be). Richie and Eddie had sleep overs almost every weekend since they were in sixth grade when Eddies mom decided he was finally old enough to have them. They always planned their sleepovers for Saturdays so they could spend the day together as well as the night, opposed to purely nights after a long day of school on Friday. It always went as following: Eddie came over at 3pm, they talked until in got dark out (god they could talk for hours), walked down to the convenience store around 9pm and headed back to the house to eat their snacks and drink their booze. Paul, a scrawny red head riddled with acne, worked at the store and would let Richie buy beers with his not so convincing fake ID. In exchange Richie would try and “set Paul up” with girls he knew, none of which ever working out to Paul’s disappointment. Some nights he and Eds would do an activity like see a movie, or go to a shitty concert, but it was a rare occasion because both of them would have to save up their allowances for weeks to afford it.

The time was now 2:54pm and Richie heard a knock at the door, he jolted his head up from the electric cords he was fiddling with, a new record player. Richie shoved the rest of the filth under his bed and jogged out of his room to open the door. Right when Eddie was about to knock again, Richie swung the door open and posed in the frame of it, “couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”. Eddie laughed and rolled his eyes, his pale blue duffle bag slung over his shoulder, “Oh i absolutely could not, I missed by husband”, he smiled up at Richie and stepped inside, Richie blushes stupidly. Richie and Eddie had always flirted as a joke but recently it was starting to make Richie feel,, well he didn’t know how it made him feel but it was just different. Richie shut the front door and Eddie lead the way back to Richie’s room, throwing his bag on Richie’s bed and flopping down on it. “Parents not home?”, Eddie said, staring up at Richie’s navy blue ceiling. “You know it babe”, Richie laughed and sat on his bed next to Eddie. “So whats the plan tonight?”, Eddie sat up and looked at Richie smiling. “Ah just the usual, but i was thinking we could be a little wild and order Chinese rather than gorging gas station treats”, Richie wiggled his eyebrows and Eddie giggled. “OhhhH fancy!”, he grabbed his bag and placed it on his lap. “Well”, Eddie rummaged through the duffle and pulled out 3 VHS tapes, “I got some new movies from the video rental and i figured we could watch one”. Eddie held up all three chunky cases, Say Anything, Sixteen Candles, and The Princess Bride,, all romances Richie noticed. “Ew why all the romance Eds, you trynna say something?”, Richie had really hoped he was, Eddie looked flushed but Richie figured it was the lighting. “No, they just happen to be good movies, asshole”, he set them down on the bed between them and pointed to Say Anything, “I really wanna watch that one, Bev says its good. But”, he pointed to The Princess Bride, “I know you like adventure so i grabbed that one too”. “How thoughtful my spaghetti man, but i’m feeling nice so we can watch your lame one”, Richie smiled down at Eddie, he still towered over the boy in their teenage years. “Okay first off its not lame, its romantic. And secondly, im sure you could use some pointers so take notes you fuckin’ anti-romeo.”. Richie laughed and picked up the VHS case and walked over to the small dingy TV that was across from his bed. Eddie got up and held onto Richie’s shirt sleeve, grab me more, “Not yet! I wanna watch it tonight with dinner!”. “Okay fine”, Richie walked back over to the bed and patted beside him, “Lets just chill then”. Eddie walked back over and they laid down next to each other and talked about the week.

As hours passed, their positions changed. At first they laid side by side, Richie’s hand twitching and aching to reach over and grab Eddies, he didn’t know why. Soon Eddie scootched over and rested his head on Richie’s shoulder, Richie’s curly hair like a pillow for him, smells good. When Eddie was close to Richie he always felt safe, like a wave of warmth and calm would wash over him, it made him want to be even closer. When Eddie got the courage to rest his head on Richie’s chest, both their bodies tensed up. Why did they feel like that, why did they feel so starved of touch all of a sudden, why did they crave more. Eddie nuzzled in which warranted a shuttered exhale from the taller boy. Soon Richie’s hands were playing with Eddies hair and tangling his long spidery fingers through it. so soft. Without realizing it, they had both gone silent as conversation faded and focus was directed to touch. This is what close friends do. Close friends make each other feel safe, make each others chests feel warm and arms tense,, right? They had gone about thirty minutes without talking and Richie looked out the window near his bed, it was dark. For Richie, the comfortable silence became an anxious one and he croaked quietly, “H-hey wanna go to the Convenient Mart?”. Eddie looked up at him lazily from his chest with his long eye lashes, his lips looked so soft. what the fuck. Eddie smiled and pushed himself off Richie, stretching, “Mhm! Lets head!”. Eddie bounced off the bed and was already scrambling to get his shoes. Richie was slower but he got up eventually and before they knew it they were out the door. “Remember”, Richie cautioned, “4 bottle limit, and, tonight we are ordering Chinese so no snacks”. “You got it chief!”, Eddie ran ahead giddily and looked back to smile at Richie. “Come on ‘Chee! Wanna make it home soon so we can watch the movie”. Richie grinned and ran to catch up to Eddie.

At the Mart they both waved hello to Paul and went straight to the back to look at the liquor. Rule was they got two each, which meant they had to choose wisely. Richie always liked the sweet stuff because he would always be a child at heart, while Eddie preferred light Mexican beers. Richie studied the back of each bottle, trying to find one with the highest alcohol content. He knew drinking shouldn’t be just for the buzz of being drunk, but the buzz sure was fun and it helped as an excuse for any weird shit he did. maybe if he got drunk he could try and figure his feelings out about Eddie. The logic was poor but Richie was desperate for answers. He ended up with some hard lemonade and some, probably shitty, raspberry flavored beer. Eddie got two Carona Lights, and they met at the counter to check out. Richie checked out and chatted it up with Paul about his latest encounters while Eddie walked out to use the payphone and call to order the Chinese. Earlier Richie had given Eddie the Brochure for the place so Eddie had folded it and put it in his fanny pack, Eddie stepped into the booth and rang the number. He ordered some noodle dish for himself and orange chicken for Richie, it was his known favorite. Eddie also ordered some potstickers, a large bottle of coke and extra fortune cookies. Eddie was giving the woman on the phone Richie’s home address as Richie stepped out of the store, Eddie held up his finger to silently say “one minute”. When Eddie hung up and walked out of the booth Richie snaked his arm around Eddies to link their elbows and the two began to walk. “How much was the Chinese?’, Richie asked as they came around a corner. “Just 17 dollars, nothin to sweat over”, Eddie shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t being held up by Richie’s grip due to their height difference. “I think i got some cash under my bed we can pay for it with”. “No don’t be silly Rich you know the deal, i pay for entertainment and food, you pay for booze and host”. “I know i know”, Richie sighed lightly when they arrived at his house and he unlocked the front door, “Just wanna be a gentleman for my Eds, thats all”. Richie held the door open for Eddie and let him go in first, making a show of it all, Eddie rolled his eyes and laughed. They brought the bag of booze to Richie’s room and put it on the floor, Richie grabbed the VHS of Say Anything, and cued it up to watch by the time the food arrived. Some dick who had rented it previously had not rewinded the tape which meant Richie had to unwind it, closing his eyes as not to get any spoilers. When the food arrived, Richie was still unwinding the tape so Eddie got the door and tipped the driver. Eddie brought in the takeout bag and plopped down on the floor next to Richie, close enough that it made Richie’s skin prickle. It had gone to the beginning and Richie paused it looking over at the food and grabbing towards it, Eddie slapped his hands away, “Nu-uh Richie let me set this up so you don’t make a big mess like you always do”. Richie made an exaggerated frown, “okay wifey”, he reached over to grab the booze bag and unpack it. Richie fished his pocket opener out of the pocket of his jeans and popped open his hard lemonade and one of Eddies Caronas. Eddie meanwhile was unpacking the food and laying it out as nice as he could in front of them, he had the shimmy the food boxes to nestle them into the carpet. If they spilt it would be a sticky and colorful mess, and Eddie knew he’d have to clean it up if he didn’t want it to be there forever. Richie looked over, “Ohh! Orange chicken! my favorite!!”, Richie leaned over and kissed Eddies shoulder. wait. why did. why did he just do that. They both tensed up but kept talking as to not make it a weird moment, thats just what friends do, they both thought. They scootched back against the side of Richie’s mattress and pressed play, Eddie giddy to see the movie that Bev had continuously raved about. A few minutes in and Richie had already finished his food and more than half the potstickers, Eddie on the other hand was slowly slurping his noodles in between sips of beer. Richie nursed his hard lemonade and rested his head on Eddies shoulder, already feeling his filter fade and a buzz come on. Despite his height, that boy was a lightweight, in fact they both were, Eds being tiny in every way and Richie just being a total bean pole. By the time things were becoming even slightly romantic Eddie was feeling nervous, staring all too often between the screen and Richie’s big mop of hair that lay on his shoulder. Why did he care? He had schoolboy crushes on Richie his whole life yea but, but they were never more than that. He had gotten over him and Richie never had to know, the boy being obviously straight after all. obviously. No one knew Eddie was gay anyways, and he was planning on waiting until college. Richie was just a friend, just a friend who made him feel things, a friend who-. Richie sighed and nuzzled deeper into Eddies shoulder. Shit. Feelings had faded or so he thought and now, god now he felt giddy all over again for his best friend, his straight best friend. Richie was oblivious to Eddies feelings, too focused on his own fidgity body. Eddie was so warm, so nice. Richie didnt know what it meant, he never felt like that before for anyone other than Eddie. Was this how best friendship feels? are you supposed to want to kiss your best friend? i mean moms kiss their little kids and we are like family so,,. Richie tried to justify it any way he could, the real answer right in front of him yet so easily unseen.

When the infamous boom box scene played, they had both finished off all their drinks and food besides the fortune cookies. Richie sighed as Lloyd held up the boombox, “He shouldnta gone back for her, she’s a biTch.”. “Richie!”, Eddie teasingly yelled and swatted at the boys head which had somehow found itself resting on Eddies lap. Richie turned from the screen looked up at Eddie with furrowed brows, “But Eds he did his very best and she just gave em a pen”. Eddie smiled down sweetly at Richie, drunk on beer and his good looks, “Sometimes people don’t always do the right thing at first Rich, sometimes people get scared”, he pushed Richie’s hair back off of his face. “if i was in love id never be scared, id stay for ever ever”, Richie frowned. “Not all of us can be brave like you Rich”, Eddies heart ached a little when he smiled down at the boy. “Yeh, imma real Romeo. But to be fair i never been in love so i dunno how hard it is”, He fingered at the folds of eddies pajama pants and turned his face inward to face eddies stomach. god slightly drunk Richie is like a baby. “Mm yea its harder when you’re in love”, the melancholy in Eddies voice luckily unheard by Richie. “Eds whats it feel like?”, Richie looked back up at Eddie like a little kid asking to hear a bedtime story. “Well, it”, he started cautiously, “its hard to explain. Love is hard to explain because well we all feel it differently. I think i’ve been in love but im not sure, its hard to know sometimes”, he brushed his hand through Richie’s hair. Richie furrowed his brows again, “Well how does you’re ‘maybe love’ feel?”. Eddie paused for a moment. “It feels good, but aches at the same time. Its this feeling deep inside of you that makes you never want to let go of that person.” thats how Richie felt, fuck. “ Its this little part of your brain that just, just tells you to do things and you don’t know why. Love is feeling safe in someones arms.” i think i love you Eddie “Love is wanting the best in the world for someone. Love is wanting to give every piece of yourself away if it means that it would make that person smile. Love i-”. Richie leaned up and kissed Eddie. Eddie went stiff and his mouth hung open. why did Richie do that. Richie looked scared, Eddie would hate him. “R-Richie, why did you do that”, Eddie wanted to cry as he looked away from Richie. he was so fucking scared, scared it was all a joke, it was always a joke with Richie. Richie sat up quickly and turned away from Eddie, arms wrapping around his own huddled up knees. “Im sorry Eddie”, the shame rang high in his voice, his mind suddenly all too sober. “Its just, you were describing it and i, i, i”, he was choking back tears, “Ive been so confused lately and i, i didn’t know what these feelings meant and, i think,”. His tone dropped dead serious with fear, ‘Eddie i think i love you”. Eddies tears began to fall now, dripping down his face. “Richie you idiot”, a smile present in his voice, “i love you too. Richie i was describing you”. “Really?”, disbelief yet a song of hope sang in Richies voice. Richie turned around to be surprised with an embrace. They were both crying like dorks. Eddie began to kiss Richie’s tears away, trailing up and down and Richie did the same, both touching each other like they’d always wanted to but were too afraid to admit to until now. Eddie held onto Richie like he was a lifesaver, held onto him like his life depended on it. He never wanted to let go, Richie didn’t either. They calmed and held each other closely like that for a while.

Richie spoke up, “Hey Eddie”. Eddie looked up with a red, tear stained face. cute. “yeah Rich?”, he smiled weak and warm. “Can i show ya something?”. Eddie nodded and let go of Richie so he could get up. Eddie sat on the ground and saw Richie walk over to the record player and dig around in his giant pile of records looking for the right one. After a while of searching to no avail Eddie giggled, “Need any help there?”, “No no i got it hold your horses,, Ah! Here!”. Richie set the record down, flipped the switch and put the needle at the start of the song he wanted.

♫♬Many times I tried to tell youMany times I cried aloneAlways I’m surprised how well you cut my feelings to the bone♫♬

Eddie got up and walked over to Richie who had turned to him with a smile. He held onto Richie and Richie offered out a hand for Eddie to take, so he took it.

♫♬Don’t want to leave you reallyI’ve invested too much time to give you up that easy♫♬

Eddie nestled his head into Richie’s shoulder and they rocked back and fourth to the beat.

♫♬To the doubts that complicate your mind♫♬

The music picked up and Richie began to spin Eddie around the room, swaying lazily in what could barely be called and dance. His hand was around Eddies waist and Eddies on his shoulder while their other hands remained clasped together.

♫♬We belong to the light, we belong to the thunderWe belong to the sound of the words we’ve both fallen underWhatever we deny or embrace for worse or for betterWe belong, we belong, we belong together♫♬

They both started to tear up again and held onto one another, their grips tightening in fear of loosing any contact at all. It was all Eddie had ever dreamed of, it was all Richie never knew he needed.

♫♬Maybe it’s a sign of weakness when I don’t know what to sayMaybe I just wouldn’t know what to do with my strength anywayHave we become a habit? Do we distort the facts?♫♬

Richie danced Eddie down onto his bed and laid him down, looking over a tear stained, smiling and breathless Eddie.

♫♬Now there’s no looking forwardNow there’s no turning back♫♬

Richie bent down in a buzzed confidence and kissed Eddie, this time with no questioning in his touch. This time he was so fucking sure of what he wanted and Eddie was too.

♫♬When you say We belong to the light, we belong to the thunderWe belong to the sound of the words we’ve both fallen underWhatever we deny or embrace for worse or for betterWe belong, we belong, we belong together♫♬

They kissed more and the music faded out from their ears, minds too focused on one another. The softer kisses turned into a starving passion of touchings and hums. Eddies arms snaked their way around Richie’s neck and pulled him down closer so Richie was on top of him, the contact they had both always needed. Hands were lazily drifting all over, touching and exploring, needing to feel everything and anything the other had to offer. Eddie scooted back so he could be all the way on the bed and Richie got up to walk around his bed and put his glasses on the night stand. He eagerly jumped back into bed which made Eddie giggle and go to kiss him again. Their cheeks were burning and so were their touches, fingers like searing fires on one another’s skin, a welcomed warmth. Eddie licked into Richie’s mouth and Richie obliged granting access, Richie moaned load from this which made Eddie hold onto him tighter. Eddie moved his fingers through Richie’s curly black hair and grabbed it a little too hard, earning an even louder moan from the boy which made Eddie smile into his mouth. Richie grasped at the bottom of Eddies shirt and tried to pull it up, Eddie disconnected and pulled it off. Before he reconnected with Richie he just stared at the boy, flush cheeks and swollen lips, fuck he was beautiful. Eddie moved close again and tried to pull off Richie’s shirt, being surprisingly successful without any of Richie’s help. Their bare chests touched, warm contact that sent an electric shock through their systems. So much more to feel, so soft, so rough, hot touches all over. Richie bent down to kiss and nip at Eddies neck and Eddie purred at the wetness of his mouth. “R-rich”, Eddie struggled out before Richie could move back to his lips, “Hm?” Richie looked up at him. “I think its time for bed”, he kissed Richie’s forehead. “oh, OH, sorry yea too fast”, Richie pulled away. Eddie closed the gap again, “aha no not too fast, just not sober ya know? wanna take in every new moment”. “mmm” Richie kissed Eddies lips lightly, “Makes sense”. Richie grabbed some pillows and dragged them underneath their heads. Eddie nuzzled his face in the crook of Richie’s neck and held onto him like a koala bear, legs wrapped around him and everything. Richie kissed Eddies hair, “I love you”, Eddie smiled up, “I love you too”.

#Reddie #Eddie Kapsbrak #richie tozier #beep beep richie #reddie fanfiction #reddie fanfic #it 2017 #it fandom #beverly marsh #it fanfiction #reddieforakiss

105 notes · View notes

margueritehall · 4 years ago

Photo

Chapter Two: Just One Single Glimpse of Relief to Make Some Sense of What You’ve Seen

Only twenty minutes to sleep, But you dream of some epiphany ( Epiphany ; Taylor Swift )

April 27, 2018

All that they knew was that a huge number of people had disappeared in the blink of an eye— they’d been taken out of existence and everyone else was left to pick up the broken pieces that were left behind. Although it had taken hours, with F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s help, Happy had been able to get a helicopter in to the city to return them to the New Avenger’s Facility. Pepper had decided that it was probably best to operate with that as their headquarters until they had more information and, although she never said it aloud, she also knew that if anyone was to return, it was probably the first place they’d go.

Even the deafening whirr of the helicopter blades couldn’t muffle the silence that had fallen over the three of them. Looking down at her lap, Maggie absentmindedly turned her phone over and over in her hands trying to make some sense of what had just happened. She had a small checklist of people that she kept in contact with— Tony, Pepper, Kate, and Poppy. One sat across from her while staring at her phone and waiting for a call that hadn’t, and may not ever, come, one had been turned to dust in front of her eyes, one was missing in action, and the other was Poppy.

Poppy had been her only friend since she was a freshman in high school; she had stayed by her side through everything since. She held Maggie’s hand when the young woman had to pick up the tatters of her life, stayed by her side while going through wills, arranging funerals, picking out urns. When the pair had graduated from NYU, she had pushed Poppy to pursue her dreams and go to South Korea to study under Dr. Helen Cho while she decided to serve in the Peace Corps and build an orphanage in Ukraine. She needed time to figure out what came next and it would be easier if she was alone. Maggie was a rolling stone; she’d bounce and find her way somehow. She always did.

As she looked at the black mirror that her phone had become, she knew that Poppy should be in Seoul right now; she was in the last years of her doctoral program and she frequently traveled across the world from lab to lab. For hours, every call that Maggie had tried to place to her best friend had only gone to the dull hum of a busy line. No text message could get through; she wasn’t even able to leave a voicemail. All of the lines and networks were incredibly overwhelmed as everyone scrambled to find their loved ones.

Poppy had left New York only a few weeks earlier, making plans with Maggie to go to the farmer’s market when she returned and, now, she didn’t know if that would ever happen. She couldn’t allow herself to even entertain the possibility that Poppy hadn’t made it. Although she was typically far away, it was like she was Maggie’s last tether to the world. Without Poppy, she would be paralyzed, she’d be floating out in the ether without anything to hold on to. Maggie gripped the armrest, her knuckles turning white as the vehicle began its descent to the landing pad below.

As soon as the door was opened and they disembarked the Stark Industries helicopter, Pepper’s commanding presence took over. She called out orders with ease before asking Maggie and several others to meet her one of the conference rooms in an hour after they’d had time to get cleaned up. Maggie nodded, turning before Pepper’s small hand reached out to touch her arm.

She’d never seen her look quite so scared before; her bloodshot blue eyes were still slightly puffy from the tears she’d shed. “Kate is gone, Maggie. So, you’re going to have to run point for the social work division of the foundation.”

Her eyes widened; she had only worked for the foundation for a year. For all intents and purposes, she was still new to the group. There were other members of her team who were far more qualified than she was. “Why—”

“Chris and Mia…didn’t make it either. So, you’re the next in line.” Pepper cut her off, pressing her lips together. Her voice softened, “I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. make sure someone brings you a change of clothes. It’s going to be a long night.” Before Pepper could turn and make her way to her personal quarters, Maggie reached out and embraced the older woman. She typically wasn’t one for physical touch but she knew that sometimes, a hug was the best comfort you could offer.

“He’s out there, Pepper. I just know it.” Her voice was soft. In her gut, she knew that Tony had to be out there too. Because, like Poppy, Tony was one of the last people that Maggie had. Pepper swallowed her tears and returned the embrace, closing her eyes for just a moment to regain some control. With the smallest hint of a smile, she gave Maggie’s hand a soft squeeze before they parted ways.

Stepping into one of the bathrooms, she rested her back against the closed door, needing just a moment of solitude. She tried to remember what her therapist had told her about grounding exercises. What could she see or feel or hear in the moment? She could hear the echo of drips falling from one of the faucets. She could see the light reflecting from the multicolor tiles on the wall. And she felt the warm sting of tears prick at her eyes before she tilted her head back, willing them not to fall down her face.

Turning on a tap, she splashed cool water on her flushed face in an attempt to calm herself physically if she couldn’t do it emotionally. There was no time for Maggie to fall apart, especially not now. Looking in the mirror, she dried her face with a paper towel, carefully swiping away the flaky, black remnants of her smudged mascara.

Maggie quickly made her way to her office, the halls eerily quiet with the lack of activity aside from the gentle click of her shoes on the tiled floor. The heavy silence came without any peace. Her stomach turned cartwheels as she passed the darkened offices, one’s whose occupants wouldn’t return. There were half-empty coffee mugs left on the desks, papers resting in the printer tray. It was like the world had suddenly stopped spinning and everything stood still.

Flipping on the light in her small office, Maggie took a seat at her desk. Folded on the corner was a pair of slacks and a blouse; ‘F.R.I.D.A.Y. works quickly,’ she absently thought to herself. Sitting down, she felt the exhaustion settle deep within her bones as she rested her head in her hands and finally allowed herself to silently mourn the losses.

Maggie waited for the tears to fall but they never came; it was like something inside of her wouldn’t allow them to reach the surface. She went through the list in her head: Tony, Kate, and for all she knew, Poppy too. What if it wasn’t just that the phone lines were overwhelmed? What if the calls hadn’t been answered because there was no longer someone on the other end of the line?

She didn’t know how long she was there, allowing herself to drown in the emotions, before she felt her phone vibrate on the desk. The marimba of her ringtone filled the small space and she sat up, grasping for the device before turning it over in her palm. A familiar bright face framed with dirty blonde waves filled the digital screen. A soft gasp left her lips as she stared at the picture, wondering if she was imagining things. With a shaking finger she pressed the green icon and brought the phone to her ear. She whispered, “Pops?”

Before anything else, Maggie heard a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. She let out a shaky breath, covering her mouth with a hand to stifle herself as relief flooded her body. “Thank god, Mags.” Her friend’s voice brought a wave of calm over her, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Maggie felt her chest shutter, trying to contain her emotions and she stumbled over her words as she tried to speak. “I couldn’t get in touch with you. I got scared that you—”

“I’m okay.” The typically bubbly woman’s voice was riddled with emotion as she tried to soothe her best friend who was half a world away but she couldn’t hide the distress that plagued her. “I got in touch with my mom and dad, they’re okay. I’m just, I’m trying to get a flight back home but I don’t know when I can. Flights are grounded and they don’t know when they’ll be scheduled again. I’m not—”

“Let me— I can talk to Pepper. I’m sure she can help work something out.” Maggie nodded. Shamelessly, she would move mountains to try and get her friend back home. And now that she knew that Poppy was still here, nothing would stop her. One of the last people she loved hadn’t left her too.

“Okay, I’ll—” Static picked up over the line, muffling the remainder of Poppy’s words.

“Poppy?” Maggie stood, walking towards the window with a prayer of better reception. “Can you hear me?”

“Mags, you’re breaking up.” Once more the lines were getting overwhelmed as people around the globe tried to reach out to their loved ones. “Listen, I’ll try and call you tomorrow around the same time.”

“Okay, I love you.” She rushed out, worried the call would end before she could say it. She had to make sure that she knew but she wasn’t completely certain that Poppy could hear her anymore.

“I love you too. I’ll be back soon; we’ll figure it out.” Even through the static and dropped moments of silence, Maggie could hear Poppy’s typically confident voice waver.

“I’ll talk to you—” With three beeps, the call cut off before Maggie could finish her sentence. Maggie exhaled and tried to level her breathing as she dropped her head against the cool glass of the window. Out in the distance, Maggie could see the small shadow of the city against the backdrop of the sky that was slowly darkening with illuminated swirls of orange and purple; the city that suddenly had half of the number of occupants than it did when the sun had risen that morning.

---

She had stopped in the bathroom again on her way back across the sprawling building. Leaning up from the sink, Maggie looked in the mirror as she patted her face dry once more. She took inventory of herself: her nose was red, her lips were flushed, her eyes were glassy. But this was as good as it was going to get for the time being. Her stomach was in knots as she walked back to the conference wing of the compound. She wasn’t prepared in the least to lead an entire division— the small voice in her head reminded her that it wasn’t actually an entire division. It was now just the tattered remains of what had once been a full division.

Walking into the somewhat crowded room, she felt completely out of her depth. Someone from each branch of the foundation was in attendance. Across the room, a small group of mostly unfamiliar people gathered together. When a small raccoon began speaking to a beautiful, bleached-blonde woman, Maggie had to tell herself not to stare at the anomaly before Rhodey caught her eye. Maggie gave him a slightly forced smile before he gestured her over to the group that, she had surmised, were probably the Avengers.

She’d met James Rhodes through Tony although, through discussion, she found out that he had known her parents before their passing since he occasionally liaised between the Department of Acquisitions and the State Department with Stark Industries. Aside from Tony and Rhodey, Maggie had never met any of the other heroes— she’d be ridiculous to not feel at least a little intimidated. When she approached, he leaned over, legs stiff from their braces, and gave her a one-armed hug with a sad smile before turning to the others in front of them.

“Guys, this is Maggie Hall. She’s gonna be running point for the social work division of the SRF now.” It seemed like her impromptu promotion hadn’t been a secret amidst the commotion. She raised her hand in a small wave; she was awkward around most new people but especially icons and Gods. “She’s about the closest thing Tony’s got to a niece—”

Her face flushed red and she looked at him reproachfully before she, gently, elbowed the older man in the ribs with a shake of her head. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed about knowing Tony; she loved him like the strange, eccentric uncle that he had become to her. She just never wanted people to assume that she couldn’t make her own way in the world based on merit alone. Rhodey knew that Tony didn’t want everyone knowing everything but the man was missing and things felt wrong without him there. Rubbing his side, he gave her a sidelong glance before shrugging it off, “Anyway,” He nodded at each member of the group and he rattled off their names, “Dr. Banner, Thor, Natasha Romanoff, Rodent—”

“It’s Rocket, asshole.” The gravelly voice from the small creature interjected but Rhodey continued speaking over him.

“And Steve Rogers.” Rhodey nodded to the stoic, bearded man that had been on the run for the past two years. Maggie was a little surprised to see him here but it made sense, especially as the world was burning down around them.

Steve extended a gloved hand which Maggie shook gently, giving him a small smile. Though his face was serious, she couldn’t look away from his kind, forget-me-not blue eyes. She only knew the little things that Tony had told her in passing. It wasn’t much considering the fact that he still insisted she was ‘basically a kid’ despite the dark shadow of thirty looming in her near future.

She mused that maybe it was because he’d been the same age that she was when he had lost his parents and he’d wished that there’d been someone there for him in his grief. On the rare occasion that Tony had spoken about Steve, she’d been able to tell that he’d (mostly) forgiven his estranged friend but the tension from their world-shattering altercation wasn’t likely to go anywhere anytime soon.

Any words that were going to be exchanged were put on hold as an emotionally exhausted Pepper Potts stood from the head of the long table, causing a hush to fall over the group. Her lips were pressed together in a line before she finally spoke, “Let’s get started."

xxxxxxx

Disclaimer: This page and this author do not claim ownership of any of the media seen on this blog aside from original character personalities and fictional stories. If you are a content creator of any gifs or images and wish for any of your content to be credited or removed from the page, please contact me here or on my personal account (@twelvesoswald) and the issue will be resolved as quickly as possible.

#we learn to live with the pain - fic

0 notes

gracieyvonnehunter · 5 years ago

Text

The best $2,000 I ever spent: many, many rounds of bingo

Dana Rodriguez for Vox

It’s the one activity where money becomes more magical and less weighty.

The one time in my life, aside from sleeping, when I’m not obsessing about money is when I’m playing bingo. I know that sounds ironic, but bingo is my mental escape, offering a few hours where the numbers in front of me all start with a letter, not a dollar sign.

I’ve been in debt my entire adult life, first with student loans from undergrad and the law school I never graduated from, then from living above my means — not hard to do on a $40,000 New York City salary.

In my 20s and 30s, I ignored my debt, thinking it would somehow eventually resolve itself (how, I’m not sure, but I assumed more money would simply materialize the older I got). When, at 40, I realized that wasn’t quite how real life worked, I dedicated myself to earning as much as I could as a freelancer, with a mix of book royalties, articles, and a part-time copywriting gig.

The downside of self-employment is I never feel like I can truly be “off.” There’s always a potential story at my fingertips, and thereby a way to chip away at my looming debt, which hovers at a little over $50,000.

My local bingo hall is my happy place, somewhere I can go any night of the week and know I’ll leave with a smile on my face no matter what the outcome. It’s the one activity that lets me escape, well, me, where money becomes more magical and less weighty.

I live within walking distance of a bingo hall that offers games every evening, plus an additional 10:30 Tuesday night game, and Friday morning and Sunday afternoon games. Over the last four years, I’ve attended almost all of them, and win or lose, each was money well spent.

Entry costs $5, for the bare minimum number of two boards for 12 rounds, but I never play the minimum. You can buy extras for a dollar or two, depending on the value of the round; most offer $100 or $200 jackpots, with some rounds for larger amounts ranging from $1,000 to over $4,000, depending on how much has been bet. The first night I attended I spent around $30 and won $200, thus turning me into an instant convert. Now, I usually spend around $50 each time I go.

Lately, that’s every few months, but after the 2016 election I played bingo several times a week to help me forget about the news. I was a drag queen bingo regular in the East Village in the ’90s, but there we were competing for Queer as Folk DVD box sets and giant glasses filled with margaritas. This is serious, adult bingo, the kind where you’ll get shushed for talking too loudly.

The bingo hall is a place where I can forget about myself for two hours. For that small slice of time, I’m not a failed adult riddled with debt. I’m simply a middle-aged white lady with a dabber in her hand. All those money worries and existential angsty thoughts that rush to the surface whenever I have a free moment — Will be able to retire someday? Will I ever be a mom? What if [insert horrible catastrophe befalling anyone in my family]? — I can push to the back burner and focus solely on getting five stamps in a row, or a pyramid or four corners, or whatever variation of the game we’re playing at that particular moment.

I’d be lying if I said the prospect of winning doesn’t motivate me to settle in alongside women 30 and 40 years my senior, who come armed with special bingo bags that hold a rainbow array of dabbers and tape to fasten their boards together. Money, of course, is the main reason any of us lurk at the bingo hall. Another reason I stopped going to casinos is that the only games I like, slot machines, have the lowest odds. After reading that, I couldn’t quite bring myself to revel in their blinking lights and beckoning noises.

With bingo, I’ve never stopped to look up the odds (please don’t tell me if they’re bad). Instead, I let myself sink into a fantasy world where I fully believe that I just might walk away with a stack of cash. All that’s required of me is to stamp red or green or purple blobs of ink onto a piece of pre-printed paper. I love the sense of excitement that washes over me at the start of each new round — all those blanks squares, all those possible chances.

With bingo, I’ve never stopped to look up the odds. Instead, I let myself sink into a fantasy world where I fully believe that I just might walk away with a stack of cash.

When my boyfriend and I moved within 10 minutes of Atlantic City, I worried that the lure of the casinos would be impossible to resist. Yet one evening in a smoky local casino cured any romanticism I might have had. I don’t know how to play casino games like poker or craps, and I don’t care to. I don’t want to think too much when I’m hoping to catch a financial windfall, or for it to feel like work, but I do want my mind to be occupied.

Bingo fills that purpose perfectly. There’s no free time to stare dazedly at Twitter. I can’t slack off or I’ll miss a number being called. The avid players know to look up at the TV screens to see which number will be called next before it’s actually spoken. Bingo makes me feel like I’m an active participant who, with a combination of luck and alertness, has a chance of winning. Bingo is full of colorful markers, breathless anticipation, and quick reflexes, surrounded by people who are a little more relaxed than the average casino-goer. Regular players give advice to newcomers, call out happy birthday to each other, and root for their friends as much as themselves. What I’ve learned is that I don’t actually love gambling; I love bingo.

I allow myself to be fully immersed in the drama. I double and triple check my cards, mentally noting which ones are close to winning and which ones are duds. I rub the orange hair of the troll doll I bought on my first visit. I silently chant “I-18” or “G-57” until the combination echoes in my mind. There’s a ripple of energy that races around the room when someone is about to hit bingo, knowledge that is transmitted either through a small gasp passed as if playing an almost-silent game of telephone or a collective Spidey sense shared by the players.

The few times my good-luck tactics have actually “worked” and I’ve looked up at the screen to see my number about to be called, I’ve felt euphoric. It’s what I imagine winning a game show — my ultimate bucket list item — would be like. I don’t care whether it’s luck or chance or fate. In that moment, I’m not, for once, thinking about the money. My entire being is focused simply on hearing that magic letter and number spoken into the microphone by the person sitting behind that spinning wheel, at which point I can shoot my hand in the air and call out as loud as I can, “BINGO!” There are no other moments in my life where I get to literally yell out a victory.

There are no other moments in my life where I get to literally yell out a victory

That possibility is truly why I play bingo. For $50, I get to spend an afternoon or evening utterly caught up in the dramatic highs and lows of being three away, then two, then one. I know going in that I have just as much of a chance as anyone else in the room.

While the result may be just as predetermined and out of my control as playing the lottery, bingo feels more active, like if I pay close enough attention, I just might win. History has shown that I truly might; I’ve won four times, out of approximately 40 visits, totaling $1,350 (with one momentous Super Bowl payout of $1,000). I’ve spent around $2,000 by my estimation, so my total losses are $750.

Given those numbers, you might assume I’m just sinking myself deeper into debt, and technically, you’d be right. But I’m purchasing much more than that potential chance to become a champion. I’m buying myself a temporary shortcut to mental health, a reprieve from that constant inner refrain that loops from you’ll never be good enough to why even bother trying. Unlike casinos, I never sense that the people around me are gambling with their rent money in a last-ditch effort to get rich. We’re all playing bingo, with an emphasis on play. With bingo, I don’t have to be smart or ambitious. I’m not being measured by my net worth, or anything else.

In lottery player parlance, I’m a dreamer, someone who sees their gambling as the “chance to fantasize about winning money.” A bingo victory feels likely enough that it makes sense to try, while knowing that what I could potentially win during any given round, while exciting, wouldn’t change my life. At best, I’d pay down a small fraction of my debt. Competing for a welcome but not mind-boggling amount of money, though, feels more sane and satisfying than wondering if I’ll win the next Mega Millions.

Plus, bingo is more communal, and more fun; in that room, I’m a dreamer surrounded by dreamers. I know that someone in the same room as me will be walking away the big winner. I can say congratulations, and see the look on their face when they win — and know it might be me next time.

Rachel Kramer Bussel writes about sex, dating, books, culture, and herself. She is the editor of over 60 anthologies, including the Cleis Press Best Women’s Erotica of the Year series.

from Vox - All https://ift.tt/35fkdb5

#Vox - All

0 notes