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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

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Simple Man

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3351

Summary: It was never what he thought he would have. But now Dean doesn’t want to let go.

Notes: I was going to wait and make this a Thanksgiving special, but I thought today would be more fitting. I can’t believe Supernatural ends tonight! This show has been a part of my life for a while now and it will forever stay in my heart. I had a really really good time writing this one. It might be one of my favorites I’ve written for Dean, if not my top pick. I hope you guys enjoy it and look forward to seeing more. Carry on.

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

(P.S. thank you to my beta reader @suckmysupernatural. Love you!)

Oh, take your time, don’t live to fast

Troubles will come and they will pass

He had slept through an alarm he didn’t remember setting. It wasn’t until he heard the creaking of the door that he stirred, reaching under his pillow for his knife. But it wasn’t there. Dean panicked as footsteps crept towards him. They were nothing more than a small pitter-patter on the wood floor, but he still prepared himself for the attack. The small creature leapt on top of him and he rolled over so he was pinning it beneath him. It giggled. It giggled?

“Daddy, Mom said she needs you in the kitchen.”

Dean leaned over to the night stand and turned on the lamp. A little green eyed girl squirmed out from underneath him and skipped out of the room.

“The hell…” Dean muttered. He opened the dresser and sure enough, his clothes sat in the drawers. He put on a T-shirt and slowly walked out of the room. The smell of bacon and coffee coaxed him to the kitchen. He couldn’t believe what he saw.

You were standing over the stove, trying to save the bacon from burning. Dean was just frozen in the doorway. Finally spotting him, you made your way over to him, which was difficult with the little boy clinging to your leg.

“Thank God you’re up. I need you to finish making breakfast.” You lifted the boy into your arms. “Eric’s got a fever and Ellie is going to wake up any second needing to be fed.” You gently laid a hand on Eric’s forehead. “I’ll call the doctor as soon as I get him to lay down. But you know how impossible that is.”

“But I’m not tired.” Eric whined.

“I know, sweetie, but you don’t want to get sicker, do you?” He pouted his lip and shook his head. “Alright, so I need you to go back to bed.” You looked back at Dean. “Can you just finish the bacon? I’ll be back to make their toast.”

Before Dean could speak, you rushed up the stairs. As if on queue, a baby started to cry from somewhere upstairs. Dean just stood in shock. What the hell was going on?

As if by second nature, he walked around the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel to let the bacon drain off the grease. It felt almost natural. He somehow knew where everything was, even though he had never been here. Or had he? His brain was fuzzy with thoughts he couldn't remember. He saw images flash in his mind. Sam graduating from Stanford. His parents celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. You… in a wedding dress.

“Johanna Charlotte Winchester you better be ready for school or your dad’s going to come and get you!” You yelled, coming back into the kitchen, this time a wailing baby in your arms. It wasn’t until now that Dean noticed you were wearing a sheriff’s uniform. You snatched up a piece of bacon and popped it in your mouth. “Thank you.”

You bounced the baby in your arms, trying to calm her down, but she wasn’t having it. The green eyed little girl from early came bounding into the room with her backpack over one shoulder. Ellie continued to bawl.

“Can you hold her? She always stops crying when you hold her.” You handed the squirming child to him and he tried not to panic. You noticed your husband’s awkwardness. “Rough morning?” You snickered. “Here, I’ll make you some coffee.”

As the child in his arms slowly stopped her crying, more memories flooded Dean’s head. You telling him you were pregnant for the first time. Going to the emergency room for the birth of his son. Watching Johanna hold her new baby sister. They all felt like dreams, but then how was this all real?

“I’m feeling a little... off this morning.” He admitted, watching you carefully as if he were waiting for horns to sprout from your forehead. Your face fell.

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re sick too.” You put your hand on his forehead. “You’re picking everyone up from the airport today.”

“Everyone?” Dean’s brows furrowed curiously.

“I would go get them, but I’m at the station until five.” You sighed, moving your hand down to caress his cheek. “Besides, you’ve been dying to see your brother since the Fourth of July.”

“Uncle Sam!” Jo exclaimed excitedly.

“Sammy’s coming?” Dean asked. Finally, something familiar. Your face contorted with confusion.

“Of course he’s coming. Jessica and the kids are too. They always help prepare for tomorrow and since your parents will still be out on their cruise, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“Tomorrow...” He spotted the calendar on the wall, but you answered first.

“Thanksgiving.” You stated. Your confusion changed to concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to stay home?” Jo raised her hand.

“Can I stay home too?”

“Sweetheart, it’s just one more half-day of school before break and then you’ll get to play with your cousins for the rest of the week.” Seeing you start to get stressed, Dean put a hand on your shoulder.

“You go to work. I’m fine.” He assured you. “I’ll hold down the fort and I’ll pick up Sam at- what time again?”

“3:00.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled. “I know you worked extra last week so you could have the garage closed for Thanksgiving, but I think the fumes might have gone to your head.” You grabbed the keys off the counter. “Oh, and I’ll be taking Baby to work since you’ll need the van to fit everyone.” His look of displeasure made you laugh. “I know, I know, but you’ll have to suck it up for today unless you think the four-year-old can babysit.”

You kiss Ellie on the forehead before giving Dean a quick, but passionate kiss on the lips. You held out your hand for your daughter to take.

“Alright, partner, let’s go.”

The two of you leave and Dean looks down at the baby in his arms. Was this really happening?

Boy don’t you worry, you’ll find yourself

Follow your heart and nothing else

If he was trapped by a djinn, he would have remembered fighting it. This was something else. The more time he spent in the house, the more this world felt real and his hunting life felt like dreams. Maybe… maybe this was real.

He remembered everything now. He had met you in a bar on New Years Eve. You hit it off talking about cars and classic rock. He proposed about two years later outside that same bar during the first snow of the season. You always said the first snow was the best one. You got married and a couple months later found out you were pregnant with Jo. Johanna Charlotte Winchester was born on April 3, 2007. She was seven. Three years later, Eric Samuel was born on November 29th. He was four. Lastly, Ellen Sandra was born six months ago tomorrow on May 27, 2014.

Sammy had a family of his own. He married Jessica right out of law school and the two had two boys; Josh, 8, and Michael, 6. Their families stayed close, even though Sam was in California and Dean in Kansas. They were happy.

If this wasn’t real, how could he remember all that?

3:00 rolled around and Eric’s fever had gone down. He called you to make sure it would be okay to take him along to the airport. You told him that as long as he was feeling okay, it should be fine. The doctor said it sounded like the heat in his room was too high. Dean buckled Eric into his carseat and Ellie in her carrier. While Johanna almost looked like a mini-girl version of him, Eric looked like you. His eyes were yours, along with his hair color and his nose. Ellie looked like a fair mix of both.

Jessica was the first one to greet him since Sam was busy carrying the boys’ bags. He hugged her tight and couldn’t stop beaming.

“It’s so good to see you guys.” He smiled and she gave him a sunny grin in return.

“I know Sam’s been eager to see you and the family for a long time. Of course, I’m only here for the food.” She teased and he pulled her into another hug.

“I can’t believe this.” Dean sighed happily. Sam and Jessica. Him and you. One big happy family.

“Do I get a hug, or are just going to hog my wife?” Sam snarked, setting down the bags as Dean nearly tackled him. Sam laughed, struggling to breathe in his brother’s crushing hug. “I missed you too, Dean.”

“Uncle Sam!” Eric cheered, clinging to Sam’s leg.

“Hey buddy.” Sam smiled, lifting his nephew into his arms. Jessica peaked into the baby carrier Dean had set on the bench.

“Look at how big she’s gotten.” She awed. Ellie was asleep, so she spoke quietly. Jess frowned, finally noticing the two brown haired boys fighting over one of their comics. “Josh, stop pushing your brother.” She scolded.

“He took my comic!” The older of the two retorted. Jessica just gave him a stern look and he surrendered.

“Michael, give it back when you’re done reading.” Sam ruffled his youngest son’s hair. Dean knelt down.

“So are you two tough guys too cool to give your uncle a hug, or what?” He pulled his nephews into a warm embrace. “Are you both taller? You’re taller than the last time I saw you.” Dean pat Josh on the back. “You’re gonna be taller than your dad before you know it.”

“You know, you’d see them more if you flew out to California.” Jessica noted. Dean’s eyes widened. She laughed. “I know, I know, you have a thing about flying.”

“I want to go to California!” Eric exclaimed.

“One of these days, we can go on a roadtrip in Baby to Uncle Sam and Aunt Jessica’s, how does that sound?” Dean promised. Eric nodded, excitedly wriggling in Sam’s arms.

Everyone loaded up into the van, Sam sliding into the passenger seat. Dean had to laugh. This was just so crazy. Here they were, driving in a van packed full of children. Their children. He thought of all of the times Sam sat beside him in the impala, the two weary from a hunt. It felt like a different lifetime. Like a different world. It felt less real.

You’ll find a woman and you’ll find love

And don’t forget son, there is someone up above

Four children ran around the backyard, jumping in leaf piles and chasing each other with sticks. Jo seemed to rule the yard, keeping her older cousin at bay with her stubborn persistence. Dean smiled proudly.

“She’s quite the pistol.” Jessica noted with a laugh, jutting her head towards Johanna. She was sitting beside you, bouncing her baby niece in her arms.

“I wonder where she gets that from.” You gave your husband a smirk. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I love you so much.” He whispered. The tone in his voice made you glance up at him. He was watching you with intensity in his eyes. So much love and yet… there was pain there.

“I love you too.” You laced your fingers with his, your concern evident in your voice. “Dean, are you okay? You’ve been acting a little weird all day.” You spoke quietly so you wouldn’t worry your brother-in-law. Your husband gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m fine, really. I’m just…” Dean felt an overwhelming wave of emotion and choked back tears. “Really happy.” He lifted your chin up, bringing your lips to his. Everything was perfect, right down to the way your lips fit perfectly against his. He knew, without a doubt, that this was real.

Soon it was time to put the kids to bed. Sam’s boys slept on the pull-out couch in the basement. Eric was exhausted from a day of excitement, as well as his baby sister. Dean was charged with the task of putting a rambunctious Johanna to bed.

“I want to stay up and drink beer like a big kid.” She pouted, making the adults in the room chuckle. Dean crouched down and picked her up.

“Alright, here’s the deal. I promise that when you’re a big kid like me and your mom, then you can stay up and have a drink with us. But until then, you’re gonna be my little deputy right?” He tapped the golden plastic badge that she never took off. Jo grinned from ear to ear and nodded. Humming a Bob Segar tune, he took her upstairs to her room and tucked her into bed.

When he came back down stairs, his brother and the two women were smirking at him.

“What?” You and Jessica exchanged a look and burst out laughing. “Come on, what?”

“That girl has you wrapped around her finger, Dean.” Jessica snickered. You took a sip of your beer.

“Oh, he’s like that with Ellie, too. He dotes on them like you wouldn’t believe. One little pout from Johanna and he melts.” You couldn’t help but beam at your husband. You loved the way he was with the kids.

“I got her in bed, didn’t I?” Dean huffed, taking his seat beside you and resting a hand on your knee. Sam shook his head.

“It’s all in the looks, brother. You may think you’ve one this round, but I saw the look in Jo’s eyes.” Sam gave his brother a sure nod. “She knows where she stands.”

“At least I’ve got Eric,” You sighed teasingly. “He’s a mama's boy, through and through.”

You curled up beside Dean, comfortable in his warmth. He kissed the top of your head.

The hours passed with plenty of laughter and love. Soon, it was getting close to 11:00 and you wanted to get plenty of rest for the busy day tomorrow. Everyone would be helping prepare the massive Thanksgiving meal that the Winchesters made every year. Sam and Jessica said goodnight and headed to the guest room while you and Dean made your way upstairs.

You reached your rooms and Dean’s hands found your waist, his lips trailing up your shoulder to your neck. You leaned back into his embrace, bringing your hand up to tangle your fingers in his golden-brown hair. His hands started to wander and you sighed mournfully.

“Baby, we both have to be up in the morning.” You groaned, breaking away from him. When you turned around, he was pouting, his green eyes big and sad. So that’s where Johanna got it. He was just so impossible to resist, but if you didn’t go to bed now, you’d be exhausted before dinner even started. You draped your arms around his neck. “I’ll tell you what; how about we get a good night’s sleep tonight…” you pulled him close and whispered into his ear, “and I’ll give you something to be really thankful for tomorrow.”

Dean’s eyes widened and his smirk spread into a smile.

“Mrs. Winchester, we have a deal.” He loved the way that sounded coming from his lips. Mrs. Winchester.

You gave him a long and passionate goodnight kiss before changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed.

It must have been around 12:30 when the baby started crying. The baby monitor was on your nightstand, so you were awakened by the sound first. Dean moved to get up, but you stopped him.

“I’ll get her.” You sleepily shuffled out of the bedroom. Reaching the hall, you muttered something that your half-asleep husband only half comprehended. Something about the electricity acting up again.

The crying continued and you didn’t return. Dean yawned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes and got out of bed. He slowly made his way down the hallway to the nursery. The door was ajar and the lamp had been turned on. You must have gone downstairs to get her a bottle.

Dean picked up his crying daughter, rocking her soothingly in his arms. She wailed and wailed until she heard his voice.

“Alright, sweetheart. It’s alright. Daddy’s got you.” He hushed. After a moment of rocking and soft whispers, Ellie started to settle down. As soon as her cries reduced to the occasional sniff, Dean set her back in her cradle. “That’s it. You’re going to be just fine. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.”

Smiling down at his beautiful baby girl, Dean felt something on the back of his neck. When he touched it, his hand came away red. He froze, and as if his body went into auto pilot, he turned around. At first he couldn’t scream. He just stared.

Your mouth gaped at him, your eyes filled with terror and pain as the blood spread out from your stomach. Ellie started to cry again.

“No!” Dean screamed. That’s when the fire started.

And that’s when he woke up.

And be a simple kind of man

Oh, be something you love and understand

Dean sat straight up, sweat soaking through his t-shirt, his scream still on his lips. The cool air of the bunker made him shiver. He couldn’t breathe. He heaved and coughed as if the smoke really filled his lungs. A sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump out of the bed and flatten himself against the wall, holding out his fists to fight.

“Dean?” You rose slowly, walking towards him cautiously. “It’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re okay.”

He just stared at you, taking in every feature. You watched his eyes fill with tears and his chin tremble as he tried to speak. Nothing came out, just a strangled sounding cry. Dean fell to his knees and you rushed to hold him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a nightmare.

Dean wrapped his arms around your middle and leaned his head against your stomach as you soothingly ran your fingers through his hair. He didn’t make any sound as he cried, but the tears fell endlessly down his face. He was shaking in your arms.

“Dean, honey, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” You whispered. This wasn’t the first time that he’d woken suddenly from a dream, but it had never been like this.

You told him that you were pregnant today. He seemed happy. Shocked, but happy. But now? Whatever was going through his head was breaking him. You sunk down in front of him so you could hold him fully, letting him cry into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He finally choked out. “I’m sorry that this is all I can give you. I’m sorry that we don’t have a big house full of kids. That Sam has lost any chance at happiness. That we can never have a normal life.” You pushed back.

“Baby, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry that this baby is going to grow up haunted and broken… just like me.” His voice cracked. You put a hand on his cheek.

“Dean…” You pressed your forehead against his, feeling your own tears start to fall. “This baby is going to be loved and wanted and cherished, just like you.” You kissed him gently, reminding him of your adoration of this hero of a man.

Dean held you closer, letting your words sink into his heart. He wanted to believe it. He wanted more than anything to believe it. Even in his beautiful dream, you ended up burned and bloody. Even in his dream, he was broken.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He would try like hell to give you a life as close to perfect as he could manage. Maybe that meant hunting together until you went down guns blazing. Maybe that meant settling down, someday, somewhere. He would try.

Baby be a simple kind of man

Oh, won’t you do this for me, son, if you can

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

#dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #jessica moore #jensen ackles #supernatural #happy thanksgiving #supernatural imagines #simple man #angst up the waz

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jeon-kookie-dough · 3 years ago

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Caught in the Game - Chapter 01

After growing up in the midst of Toman and a rather wild time in college, you are now working for a popular fashion magazine. You were aware of your boss's gang past - Kokonoi Hajime's name having been well-known during your school time - but after you bumped into an old friend at work the other day, one coincidence follows the next and you find your past catching up to you...

pairings: Koko x reader, Chifuyu x reader genre: angst, gang!au rating: m for violence & slowburn smut word count: 2,536 next>

The subway was much stuffier than usual. Bodies pressed into each other at every curvature, the sweat mingling on the sticky handlebars. And it is only the morning, for fuck’s sake.

The way from my house, which is located kind of in the outskirts of Tokyo, to Chiyoda where my office was located, felt like a lifetime this hot morning. Between trying to avoid creeps in the subway and standing in the longest queue in front of my favorite coffee shop for what seemed like hours, I was trying to supersede immense tiredness.

As of November, of the year prior I was working for one of the bigger fashion magazines in the country and the deadline for my latest article was already scratching at the front door. More like clawing, actually.

Up until starting up this job, I was used to living a half-assed life. School came easy to me, despite having been caught up in some…situations. College was a blur of alcohol and parties and I just barely graduated. After college I held myself above water with various part-time jobs, having been kicked out from home at barely 18 and landed my current job by chance. This upcoming article was more than important to me, thus stressing myself, and crying my fucking eyes raw from frustration, since it was the first time having my work printed in an actual magazine instead of just publishing online.

The second I stepped foot into Marunouchi Park Building, I sighed of relief and thanked who ever invented ACs. I entered the elevator, pushed the button for the 23rd floor and leaned back against the cool metal wall of the cabin. Just as the doors were about to close, somebody sprinted into the otherwise empty cabin. The person was male and of average height, balancing a couple garment bags and shoe boxes in his arms. I wasn’t really surprised that he was going to exit on the same floor, as the other offices in this building were mostly financial firms.

Not minding the other person, I let him leave the elevator before me, clocked in and greeted my colleagues with a friendly nod. I took a while, but in the past eight months, people seemed to have accepted that I was far from a morning person, so they learned to appreciate my curt nods. Only because I bring coffee. At least that’s my hypothesis.

“Good morning, sunshine!”

My eyeballs immediately rolled to the back. Hearing my boss’ voice in the morning was like nails on a chalkboard. I rolled back with my chair, peaking around my cubical. The bright sunlight illuminated the office through the glass front, reflecting in the angled door to the chief editor’s single office. His figure leaned in the door, arms crossed and hand holding out expectantly.

“S’up, Koko?” I mumble. I knew exactly what he had his hand stuck out for, but I wouldn’t give him the gratification he wanted. That rich fuck, I thought. Bet he snorts his coke with 10k yen bills but can’t even get his own fucking coffee.

“Think my hand is missing an iced Americano this morning. Care to explain?” His slender frame circled around the cubicle wall, now towering above my sitting person. My office was usually occupied by five people in total. Inui always being late and the other three on vacation left me as the only victim. I rolled my eyes at him. “Dunno”, I retorted, opting for my most innocent look. “Think I might have dropped it. You can have a sip of my Cappuccino, but I’m afraid I spat in it.”

Kokonoi Hajime was a peculiar person. He stood at 5’9” and his black locks braided away from the left side of his face was his signature look. He cared a lot about his staff being dressed well, as he himself only own designer suits from Italy. Despite enjoying the power he had over his staff, he also was very liberal in the way we communicated with another at the office. I had never met him before taking the job, but I had certainly heard of Kokonoi way before.

Koko was only a year or two older than I was and back in middle and high school he had a reputation. He lived one school district away from me, but the stories about him were also told at my school. Stories of a financial prodigy that hid behind his wannabe gangster friends that, most of the time, resorted to violence.

“You have a foul mouth”, he snickered, grabbing my cup and taking a sip anyway. “Somebody ever told you that?” I hummed in response, counting my coffee lost, and turned on my laptop. “I have a meeting in five minutes, so please take my calls, will you? Inui is useless, as always.” I nod silently, still grieving the loss of my coffee. Koko’s gaze rested on Inui’s empty desk, then on me. “How’s that big article of yours coming along?”

I knew he meant no harm with that question, but my elevated stress levels along with the acid, that always seems to wing in his voice, made me snap. “Fuck off, alright? I’m working on it.”

The chief editor raised his hands in defense and backed away from my desk, a smile playing about his lips. “The meeting’s until noon. Tell Inui to take my phone when his drags his lazy ass here.”

Inui arrived at 10:30, offering a coffee and a doughnut as a peace offering. I told him to screw off and, finally, concentrated on my article. It was almost done, but I needed it to be perfect before handing it to Kokonoi for proof-reading. I couldn’t afford messing this up if I ever intended of becoming a regular in the print.

I was so emersed in my work that I never saw the visitor arrive or leave. At lunch, all that occupied my mind was my hunger. I didn’t really have a lot of money left, thanks to the fucking chief for having me dress in expensive clothes so he quote unquote didn’t have to claw his eyes out at the sight of me, so a snack from the vending machine it was.

With food just in sight, my feet may have become a little too eager and I stumbled a crashed face first into someone walking by, having them fall onto the marble floor with me. I cussed under my breath and tried to get onto my feet, when there was already a hand outstretched to help me.

“You okay?” I averted my eyes immediately, embarrassment written on my face. “Uh, yeah, I’m alright, I guess. Er, I think you dropped something.” I dove right back down, picking up the visitor laminate. It read ‘Visitor for KOKONOI Hajime. Name-‘

My gaze darted up immediately, meeting a pair of silver eyes staring right back at me. “Mitsuya fucking Takashi?” I whispered in sheer disbelief. My opposite grinned, squeezing his eyes shut doing so. “It’s been a long time, huh, (Y/N)?”

I found myself accompanying Mitsuya to a Korean restaurant down the street for lunch. His treat, he said. The sun was merciless, and he scolded me for not carrying an umbrella with me. “It’s bad for your skin, you know?” I grunted, looking up at him. “Like I care.”

My high school graduation ceremony had been the last time I had seen Mitsuya. Up until then, we had almost been inseparable, having lived in the same shitty apartment complex, visiting the same middle school and him only being one year older. Back then, a lot of things happened. We never really had a fall out, at one point things just changed.

At the restaurant, we slid into a booth and a young waitress came to our table to take our order. Her eyes revealed that she found my companion attractive, but as per usual, he was oblivious. A couple minutes passed, and we were handed our drinks.

“Alcohol at this hour?” His eyebrow shot up in worry, vanishing behind his silver hair. He changed it up a bit since then, leaving his shaved sides in his natural black hair color, his top hair raked with black strands in the otherwise light hair. “Thought you had given up on that.”

I stirred my vodka soda with the glass straw, the ice chinking against the glass. “Yeah, I had.”

Mitsuya didn’t dig any further and leaned back into the cushioned bench instead. “So, a fashion magazine, huh? I thought you always wanted to become a sugar baby, what happened?” At his question I emptied half my drink in one gulp, disregarding the straw completely. “Turns out I’m not really cut for sucking wrinkly dick.” To that, Mitsuya busted out laughing. “You achieved just what you always dreamed of. How does that feel?” I asked quietly.

He stayed silent for a while and I watched him gnawing at the inside of his cheek, clearly thinking about how to choose his next words. “A lot of time has passed, you know?” His voice was dull as he finally spoke. “And a lot happened in between. I guess it was either getting my life under control or…” His voice trailed off, but I knew exactly what he left hanging in the air. Prison. Or even worse, death. “For my sisters’ sake, I chose to get my life together.”

I nodded, fumbling with the glass straw, one burning question on the tip of my tongue. How are the others? Is everyone still alive? I was too afraid of the answer, so I pushed the thought way back.

“Tell me about you, though”, Mitsuya smiled and leaned forward, folding his hands and propping his chin on them. “Working for Koko now, huh? How’s that been?” I groaned quietly and let my head hang. “He’s a fucking pain in the ass. Making me buy all this expensive shit so I’ve got nothing left in the bank. If I knew beforehand who the chief editor was, I would have never taken that job.” Mitsuya chuckled and flicked my forehead. Just like he always used to.

“I know what you mean” he mused. “I never thought I’d see his face again after-“ My eyes shot up at the tone in his voice. I never knew they had met before. Back then, I would have feared for his life. Everyone was young and stupid back then; delinquents with nothing but fist fights on their minds. But the folks Koko had surrounded himself with were more on the actual criminal side.

“What? Mitsuya, you never told me!” Even I was surprised at the pure horror in my voice. “Why didn’t you say something?” Mitsuya shrugged. “Nothing bad ever happened. It was just a surprise to see him in a position like this, that’s all.”

After lunch, which was fucking delicious, dare I add, Mitsuya and I exchanged numbers before going our separate ways.

The rest of the day I couldn’t concentrate on anything anymore. Before I headed home, I met Kokonoi’s gaze through his glass door and it gave me the shivers. Like he was watching me. Like he knew something. Creep. This weird feeling followed me all the way home and I caught myself looking back at every turn, at every red light. For some reason the conversation I have had with my old friend had me nervous. Nervous for him, for me, for everyone. What if Koko’s the same old thug, but with a lot more money and influence?

At home I opened a bottle of white wine, dunked the cap in the bin and sat at my desk, ready to catch up on the time I wasted at the office being worried. With a little liquid confidence, of course. Cheers!

I had approximately gotten about three hours of sleep. My body felt like it had gotten run over by a truck, my brain felt like soup. The only silver lining was, that I had, hallelujah!, finished my article – and my favorite co-worker Natsuki returning from her vacation. She had been working at the magazine already when I had started and showed me around.

Only a few days after I had started working, Atsushi Sendo had been transferred from another internal office to ours. There had been a lot of rumors occurring around his transfer, sexual harassment among them, but in the end, he had only royally fucked up his latest pitch and, as a punishment, had been put under Koko’s supervision, since he’s known to be the meanest editor. He ended up liking to work with us so much that he just stayed. The three of us ended up becoming the bane of Koko’s existence.

I stepped one foot into the office, yawning and pulling an Inui, I can’t believe that I arrived even after him, before I heard Natsuki already picking a fight with the chief editor. I silently put her coffee next to her cup of tea, handed another one to Inui and sat down at my own desk.

“With all due respect, Kokonoi, but you can’t expect me to not freak out when I come back after three weeks and find myarticle published under your name!” I leaned back into my chair, eyes closed, and head thrown back, and listened to the bickering in the chief editor’s office. A few minutes later, Natsuki threw the door into the lock behind her, the heel of her shoes dangerously echoing in the otherwise silent room.

It only took a moment before my sleepy body jumped awake when it got hit by a paper ball. My eyes ripped open just to find her eyes lingering over the wall between our cubicles. “Thanks for the coffee”, she said, raising the cup in a silent toast. I did the same, somewhat straightening up my spine in the seat. “Glad you’re back”, I yawned. “Old scrooge was unbearable.”

“Was?”, Natsuki barked under her breath. “He’s the spawn of hell! Remind me to never take anything from him again. He’s the kind of person to always expect something in return and I don’t even want to think about what he would expect.” I grunted in my chair and sipped on my black coffee, leaving a red lip print on the paper.

“Money” Kokonoi, who unbeknownst to any of us had left his office, answered Natsuki whilst keeping his sly eyes on my. “I don’t take anything but cash. (Y/L/N), where’s your article. Deadline’s today.” Natsuki’s and my eyes met over the screen. Our boss rarely called us by our names, much less our family names - he prefers shit like darling or sweetheart. Why the fuck am I still working here?! – so we knew something was up. And maybe I have a hint.

“Check your mails. I submitted it at, like, 3.” “A.m.?” Natsuki mouthed in disbelief, but I kept my eyes fixed on Kokonoi. He beckoned me with a finger to follow me. “Come in my office for a minute, would you, sweetheart.” There he was again. The egotistical, chauvinistic asshole. The chair hit the screen behind me as I rolled back a little more forceful than intended, but I followed him, anyway.

#tokyo revengers #TR #chifuyu x y/n #koko x y/n #matsuno chifuyu #tokyo revengers x oc #tokyo revengers x you smut #hajime kokonoi #sanzu haruchiyo #mitsuya takashi #slowburn #smut #gang!au #kurokawa izana #izana #ran haitani #rindou haitani #hanma #kazutora hanemiya

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1kook · 5 years ago

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skirt chasers - drabble i

a skirt chasers drabble bc they are my fave fictional couple to date <333

tags: coupley and domestic, jk’s terrible attempts at seducing via text, making out, dry humping, spitting (ik idk what came over me), too much talking for this to be sexual pero hey here we are wc: like 3k

entirely based off jungkook from bv3 that man had NO right to look that good and the holy jirkenstocks (jungkook birkenstocks). wont lie this has been completely written in my drafts since November (yes 2019) and i hoarded it under the belief i would make this a whole part 2 which i did not

que dios los bendiga <3

Much to everyone’s dismay, Jungkook’s spring break in Vegas with the boys is cut three days short when Jimin’s dog sitter suddenly cancels, citing a case of homesickness as enough cause to abruptly go home. When you first hear news of this, you’re preparing yourself for the return of a mopey, useless Jungkook, too drained from four glorious days in Las Vegas to carry on. What you’re not expecting is the mysterious text he sends you before boarding a five hour flight with no service (he was cheap).

kook still on vegas lockdown. Have that pussy ready when i get home

“The fuck does that mean?” Chaeyoung is the first to see the message, your screen lighting up on the kitchen counter beside you as you scrub through a mountainous pile of dishes. You try to play it off, after all, Chaeyoung had seen parts of you you hadn’t even seen, but there was no worse embarrassment than having your homegirls see your clown of a boyfriend’s ridiculousness. “He’s so romantic,” she swoons, and you shoo her away from the offending device as you wipe your hands down on your t-shirt.

you for what?? One 20 second round 🤥

Chaeyoung suddenly cackles from over your shoulder, and you swear your soul leaves your body.

You don’t get a response until exactly five hours and thirteen minutes later, your phone vibrating like crazy on the edge of your bathtub, and if you hadn’t given it a hearty kick and sent it flying across the room, front screen shattering into the most intricate spider web of glass shards, it would have fallen into the water. The terror.

kook pls pick me up

kook also haha. U r soooo funny 😑

You’re halfway to the airport, idly sitting in traffic and giving the public a free, Beyonce-like experience of The Script’s Breakeven, when you realize you’re not wearing any pants. You’re not exactly sure which part of Jungkook’s long t-shirt had tricked you into believing you were decently dressed, but you’re not too mad. After all, Jungkook’s trip with the boys had been a last minute decision that did not take into consideration your never-ending thirst for your boyfriend, so a little payback never hurt anybody.

He’s sitting on top of his suitcase outside the airport when you get there, cute Birkenstock-clad feet swinging back and forth as he waits for you like the good boy he is. He crouches down by the passenger window, “Uh, yeah, is this the Uber?”

You can’t even bother hiding the smile that consumes your face, and it only grows tenfold when he finally gets in and immediately leans over the center console to kiss you. “Look who’s finally back from their little bachelor party,” you murmur, eyes lidded dangerously low when he breaks away.

“Oh, the party where I accidentally sleep away my life-savings to a stripper named Aries and then have to go home and beg for my wife’s forgiveness?” He responds immediately, devious pink tongue swiping out to lick at your bottom lip.

You snort. “Joke’s on you, because our hot pool boy kept me company and treated me better in four days than my husband had in six years,” you mumble, finger looping into the silver chain around his neck to pull him close again.

“Not our hot pool boy,” he whines, smile pressed adorably to your lips.

You almost retort, but a ten-second horn blast from the car behind you has the two of you jumping three feet from each other, like teenagers caught making out in the school parking lot.

Just as you’d predicted via text, Jungkook barely has the energy to walk up the steps to your apartment, much less fuck you like he’d promised. “Fuck, stop being healthy and let us take the elevator,” he grunts, pushing his suitcase onto the final platform leading to your floor.

“Nope,” you concede. “The stairs give me a good view of your ass going up.”

He shoots you a scandalized look, like you’re an old man who’d just catcalled him on the street. “Pretty sure that’s my line.”

It’s when you’re unlocking the front door, sending out a little prayer to the heavens (Chaeyoung) for the blessing of an empty apartment, that he notices your lack of proper clothing. “Oh, hell no,” he groans, immediately crowding you against the armchair nearest the door.

You laugh, struggling to turn to face him as he nuzzles his face into your neck. “What seems to be the problem?”

He sighs against the shell of your ear, and you’d be a liar to say it didn’t send a gush of wetness to your core. Jesus, just a single puff of air from Jungkook was enough to turn your coochie into a Fruit Gusher. “Not your sexy legs again,” he whines, and you giggle when he presses those pouty lips to yours.

“Thought I was supposed to have this pussy ready for you,” you tease, tilting your head up until your noses brush against each other. Jungkook lets a soft huff of a sigh go, eyes fluttering shut at your close proximity.

There’s a hand that creeps along the back of your thigh, fingers pressing into the soft skin until he finally guides it upwards, hitched over his hip. The new position has your body curving backwards, tilted over the edge of the couch as he continues crowding closer and closer to you. “Baby,” he whines, and the tone and sudden usage of your favorite nickname wipes the teasing smile off your face. “I missed you so much,” he purrs, in that tone that says he knows he has you under his complete control, all he has to do is take care of you.

Still, you try to put up some sort of a fight. “I’m sure your eyes were kept entertained in Vegas,” you retort weakly, not even bothering to hide the jealousy in your tone.

Jungkook laughs, before puckering his lips and smothering you. Instantly, you throw your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer. His hair tickles your face from how long it’s gotten, and when you brush it back, collecting it into a makeshift baby ponytail, you can’t even enjoy the sight because Jungkook is pressing his rock hard member against your inner thigh.

“You think I’m a cheater?” He muses when he finally pulls away, a little entranced by the saliva that coats your lips in a thin sheen. “Couldn’t be even if I wanted to.” Before you can ask what that even means, he’s hauling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his tiny waist, his cock now cradled between your thighs, right where you want him most. You moan immediately, head lolling backwards at the touch you’d craved for days. “Feel that? No one gets my dick hard like you do, baby.”

Even though his adrenaline is on one hundred, and he’s clearly blinded by his lust, Jungkook still sets you down on the bed like you’re made of glass. Any comments you may have made are smothered by his lips on yours, fingers gripping your waist like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark and his breath is a little heavy where it fans against the lower half of your face.

“So pretty,” he huffs, rolling his hips against yours. You groan, eyes rolling back as the familiar feeling of your boyfriend between your legs consumes you. Jungkook presses his mouth against the skin of your neck, where the faintest sheen of sweat had begun to form the moment you unlocked the front door.

If you thought you were loud, the sounds leaving Jungkook’s throat are teetering on the edge between a pornstar and a yodelling-enthusiast. You can’t help the smirk crossing your features. “Are you really gonna come?”

Jungkook was many things, and drama queen was definitely very high on that list. He gives you the most scandalized expression, stopping the movement of his hips to scoff. “As if,” he snorts, but you know that little eyebrow furrow a little too well.

You snort, reaching down to his sides as you try to discreetly urge him to start up again. “Baby, your jaw is twitching,” you point out, a soft whine leaving your lips when he shifts your leg up. It’s this same sound that has him finally moving again.

“Yeah, well,” he groans, one hand deathly gripping into your hip now, pressing you down onto the bed so hard you feel the comforter will swallow you up any minute now. “I just got my wisdom teeth removed, ‘member?”

Your retort is briefly cut off by the cry you let out when he ducks down to suck a mark beneath your jaw. “M-Months ago,” you weakly respond,

Jungkook ignores you in favor of using his Hulk strength to fold you in half, groans borderline animalistic as he grinds his cock into your soaked panties. His jaw is tight like you’d said, but you can tell he’s holding himself back. He hated coming before you, seldom doing it unless it was one of those rare days where he wanted you to pamper him.

“Fuck,” he grunts, swallowing your pitiful whines before pushing his tongue down your throat. There was something sexy about your boyfriend being so turned on that his saliva production was off the charts. “You’re gonna ask me to do that thing again, aren’t you?” He predicts.

All you can do is nod, and Jungkook smirks. “Ah,” he says, much like a doctor would, and you comply, mouth wide. You see the muscles beneath his jaw twitch, and a moment later he’s leaning over you with puckered lips, a glob of saliva begging to drip down.

The moan that catches in your throat has him smiling, tongue peeking out to cut the bridge of saliva that connected the two of you, and you want to tell him you love him, but then he’s raising his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to swallow, so you do. “Absolutely filthy,” he grins, and then returns to thrusting against you.

As much as you liked to tease him, he’s good at fulfilling the sexual aspects of his boyfriend role, and he guides you to your orgasm moments later. Of course, he does so by toying with your tits just the way you like, lips pressed firmly to yours as you become a boneless heap beneath him. “That’s it, pretty baby,” he murmurs, pressing one final kiss to your lips before he’s shifting back onto his haunches, tugging you closer until the backs of your knees are cradled carefully in his elbows.

Despite your transcended state, you love watching Jungkook get himself off, and your eyes flutter as you watch him thrust sloppily against your soiled panties. They’re soaked by your own arousal, and had Jungkook’s sweats not been as dark as they were, you’re almost certain you’d see how they stained.

He comes a moment later, body twitching and fingers tightening against your skin. His chest heaves, head lolling back as he tries to regain his senses. Silence envelopes the room.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You blurt, no longer able to pretend like something isn’t completely wrong.

Jungkook rolls his neck out, a satisfying crack resounding, as he angles to look at you again. His tongue is poking against his cheek in that cocky way it does sometimes, and he furrows his brows at you. “What?”

You shuffle up onto your elbows, motioning towards him with the vaguest wave possible. He blinks. You groan.

“What did you do?” You question, and immediately his eyes go wide and shiny in that way they do when you’re reprimanding him and he doesn’t see the wrong in his ways.

Cute little lips forming a pout he remains as confused. “Nothing? We really just went to fuck around and get drunk—“

“Kook.”

“You don’t actually think I cheated, I thought we were just joking? Unless…” he trails off, doe eyes suddenly filled with fear. “You weren’t?”

“Jungkook—“

He intercepts you, “did you do something while I was gone? Who was he? Or she? Wow,” he huffs to himself in disbelief. “I don’t even know you well enough to know if you’re into more than just men.” The frown on his face is getting deeper with each word he utters and you almost can’t believe how dumb he could be. “No wonder… am I a terrible boyfriend?” He asks, voice louder and more concerned than it’s been all night.

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” You say, and Jungkook looks just as lost by your response as you are with his. “Because I’m talking about whatever this is,” you explain, reaching up to drag a hand through his dual-colored locks.

They’d been carefully tucked under his bucket hat when you’d picked him up, a tuft of blonde peeking out from in front of his ear. It wasn’t until he’d tipped you over the side of the couch that it had tumbled off. Of course, at the time, there had been other pressing matters at hand than wondering why your Hannah Montana blonde boyfriend had returned as Todoroki, which is why you’d waited until now to revisit the topic.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a solid ten seconds. Then, as if processing the emotional episode he’d just given you, he gives you a sheepish smile. It’s one of those smiles where his lips press together thinly and cutely and the apples of his cheeks seem like the squishiest things in the world. “Oh…” he says, voice soft and nothing like the man that spit in your mouth five minutes ago. “You like it?”

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #kpopwonderlandtag #ksmutclub #bts smut #jjk smut #mine #what did i even use to tag with lolol #sc universe #skirtverse #skirtfic

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lyssismagical · 4 years ago

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evermore

Just a Solid Vent Fic

I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho

As a compromise for Tony not being able to pay Peter’s tuition to MIT thanks to his full ride, Tony bought an apartment right beside campus for Peter to live in, to ensure no awkward adventures trying to be Spider-Man with a roommate.

Peter’s still adamant about getting a job and paying for his food, phone bill, and any other things like clothing or entertainment.

And balancing classes, patrolling, and a job, isn’t easy, of course. But it’s always been better for him to work hard than to give himself time to think. It’s not like his mental health is on hold, but it’s easier to put it aside when he’s got so much to do all the time.

It doesn’t help that he’s also on the debate team thanks to MJ, and in the robotics club thanks to Ned.

When November rolls around and it brings the final projects, Peter pushes himself to the limit to keep up with everything.

He starts dropping his sleep to only a nap whenever he can squeeze it in, working all afternoon, classes all morning, and Spider-Man all night, and he starts making up excuses for anything that isn’t a number one priority.

He stops seeing his friends, stops calling May back, stops replying to Tony’s worried texts, stops helping out with his professors or the librarian or his classmates. He stops cleaning his apartment, letting dishes pile up on the counters and laundry go unwashed.

It’s bad, and he knows that, rationally and logically, he knows.

But that doesn’t stop him from doing it anyway.

Three weeks, he tells himself.

And he keeps pushing.

MJ shows up at his apartment out of the blue when he’s studying away, and he barely manages to clear the fog in his head to stumble for the door.

“I can’t talk right now,” he says before she can even say hello. “I’ve gotta study for my physics exam.”

“No, you’ve gotta chill the fuck out.”

He shakes his head, leaving the door open as he turns his back and heads into his kitchen for a quick snack so he can get back to his work. “No, I have to study.”

“Oh my god, you live in a garbage dump,” she says, eyes going wide as she takes in the state of his apartment. “When was the last time you washed a dish? Or, gross, your hair?”

He doesn’t bother responding, rolling his eyes and downing a protein bar. “Two weeks, now, and then I’m done for a month.”

“At this rate, I don’t know if you’ll make it through the next two weeks.”

Peter can’t help but roll his eyes again, part of him hating how much he’s lashing out despite wanting help, needing help, but unable to find the strength to stop it from happening as he brushes past her again.

“I know you’re stressed, I know you’re anxious about exams and papers and labs, but, seriously, Peter?” she says, following him to where he’s working in the living room, papers and binders and textbooks strewn across every surface. “You’re a genius, okay? You’ve been getting excellent grades all year. The only reason you might not do well on these projects is because you’re working yourself to death.”

He shakes his head, feeling very suddenly like he might cry. “It’s not that easy. Just… I don’t want to deal with this right now, okay?”

MJ doesn’t take that as a good answer, though, sitting beside him on the old couch. “I know you, okay? I know you better than most people do. I’ve seen you in some of the worst states you’ve been in. I know this. You can’t pretend that this is okay or normal or that this is you doing fine. I don’t believe it for a second.”

He opens his mouth to fight back, to argue, to try to convince her otherwise, or maybe just to kick her out. But he hesitates.

After the Snap’s reversal, she was the one who devoted all her time to taking care of him. He was such a mess of PTSD and depression and emptiness, but she was there. She kept the lights on for him, she brought him food and water, held him after nightmares, talked him down from panic attacks every other day. She was there, despite everything, she was always there.

Tony was too far and he never wanted to bother May, so he regularly would drop by her fire escape where she would patch him up after patrols, and occasionally, let him sleep next to her and make sure to get him to school on time.

She’s always been there.

She’s held him together, kept him sane, helped him through it all.

It wouldn’t be fair to get pissed.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, shoving a hand through his mess of greasy, tangled curls. “I’m such a mess, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch, but I just… I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m drowning.”

And she nods because she’s always understood, always known what he means. She puts her hand over his. “You deserve a nap. C’mon.”

He goes to shake his head, looking to where his lab is only half-done, he’s only a few chapters into the textbook to get prepared for his exam, rough notes scribbled out for a paper.

“No, c’mon. You’re taking a nice nap. You deserve it,” she repeats, tugging more insistently at his wrist.

But he shakes his head this time, pulling his hand away. “If I stop, I won’t be able to start again.”

“Peter-”

“I’m serious, if I take a nap or a break or take a second to breathe, I will crumble and I won’t be able to put myself back together in time for these due dates. I won’t get back up. I just-” He stops, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his wet eyes. “I need to keep pushing for the next two weeks and then I can fall apart.”

MJ shakes her head, fingers wrapping around his thin wrist. “That’s not healthy. And it certainly wouldn’t be right for me to let you do that.”

“I’ll fail my classes if I don’t do well on these assignments and exams. I need to keep going. I know it’s bad, but if I get into bed, I will fall into a slump and I won’t get anything done.”

Surprising both him and what seems like herself, she nods, holding onto him a little tighter like he’ll disappear before her very eyes. “Fine. But I’m going to stay here with you and make sure you don’t die over the next two weeks, alright? And you have to listen when I tell you to eat or watch stupid reality TV shows with me.”

He hums out an agreement, letting himself slump into her side, eyes focusing in on his mess of homework laid out before him.

“Come on. Step one, is getting you showered and in clean clothes because you smell like you spent the night in a dumpster.”

MJ does exactly as she promised she would. She calls it a ‘mental health sleepover’ and they set up camp in the living room.

She calls in sick for him at work for most of the week, telling them that he caught the flu and wouldn’t be back until after his exams, and even then, he’d already booked most of Winter Break off to go home to New York.

There wasn’t much she could do, in all honesty, it wasn’t like she could force him to sleep or take a break without a fight, but she could make him healthy meals and stop him from going out patrolling, which was enough to take a big load off his shoulders.

And she occasionally can convince him to watch those dumb reality TV shows, which occasionally makes him fall asleep on the couch for at least an hour or two.

It helps, of course, but it doesn’t solve any of the problems.

As soon as he’s finished exams, he’s going to drop, he’s going to fall, he’s going to drown, let the waves take him.

And nobody will be able to help him then.

“I booked your flight home,” MJ says over dinner and while he’s finishing up his lab report. “My flight’s a few hours after yours, so I’ll be with you until you board and then the Starks will pick you up.”

“Thanks. I really owe you one,” he says, only half-listening as he starts on his paper.

She grabs him by his shoulder and makes him turn to her laptop screen. “Say yes to the dress time. Your paper can wait a bit.”

“There’s only so much I can procrastinate,” he says but he’s already closing his laptop and tucking himself into her side, and shoulders finally relaxing.

She starts the episode, on a low volume, and presses a quick kiss to his temple.

By the time they’re onto the second episode, Peter’s slurring out his insults to the dresses some of the women pick, making fun of the different styles, and blinking getting longer and longer.

“That neckline?” Peter goes, giggling into MJ’s shoulder. “Especially with those shoes?”

“You’re a bitch.”

“I know, but seriously?” he laughs again, a little window into the person he once was. “I mean the first option wasn’t bad, but the choice of a grey dress in the first place…”

MJ’s voice goes all soft and gentle when she next speaks up, “Come on, go to sleep, you can afford to take a little break.”

And he nods sleepily against her shoulder, tucking himself just a little closer, making himself small against her side. It’s simple, for now.

As soon as he’s done his last exam, he can feel the adrenaline wearing off, disappearing from within him, all energy draining from his very veins.

He goes straight home afterwards, ignoring everybody who tries to stop him for a chat. And as soon as he makes it to his apartment, he goes straight to bed, tugging the sheets right over his head.

He shouldn’t do this, he knows. He should call MJ, ask that she drop everything for him again because he can feel himself slipping, but he won’t. He can’t. He doesn’t even know when the last time he saw his phone was, let alone have the effort to leave his blankets and try to find it. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t have it in him to care.

He feels empty and exhausted and strung out. Carved hollow. Putting everything he has into the past few months, he feels like he has nothing left to give.

There’s a knock on his front door, but he doesn’t move.

A few minutes later, his phone rings, somewhere in another part of the apartment. It rings again and again, a symphony for him to pass out to.

Time passes strangely when he’s this deep in a depressive episode. He doesn’t know how long he’s been huddled under his blankets, hiding from the world. It could’ve been anywhere between a couple hours and a few days, he doesn’t know.

His phone continues ringing, far away and echoing through his dreams, tears sliding down his cheeks at random intervals, hands trembling where they’re tucked under his chest.

He feels like he’s drifting away, collapsing into himself, fading away into nothingness.

He feels empty, hollow, gone.

He gave everything he had into school and work over the course of four months, and he has nothing left to give anymore. He’s nothing more than an empty well.

And he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to pull himself together, pack, get a flight home, and pretend to be one hundred percent for Morgan.

He’d rather just die here, in this cave he’s built, ghost-like and fading away already, than have to face another soul.

When he hears his front door unlocking, he knows he should be worried. Nobody has a spare copy of his key except for Ned, who already went home to New York a few weeks back.

He knows it should be at least a little concerning that somebody is breaking into his apartment, but he can’t find it in him to care. He doesn’t have the energy to move or hide or try to protect himself.

He just curls up a little tighter and hopes that this won’t be his last day.

“Peter?”

He lifts his head, just enough to see over his cave of his blankets.

And standing in his bedroom doorway is Tony.

“Hi,” he breathes, curling up a little tighter, knowing he’s safe.

Tony slips into his room and sits at the end of his bed, one hand on Peter’s ankle. “MJ called when you wouldn’t answer your phone or let her in. She knew something was up.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I saw something like this coming after you finished your senior year and spent two weeks sick and depressed. I thought you’d be home in time before you started feeling so run down, but I guess I was wrong.”

Peter doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to that, so instead he lets his head fall into the pillows again.

“I’m not going to make you do anything yet, I think you could use a bit more time here. Though, Morgan thought two days sleeping was plenty, I think another one might do you well. But tomorrow, we’re going to get you fed and showered and your apartment clean, and then this weekend, we’ll get a flight home. Sound good?”

He nods, though he’s pretty sure he would agree to pretty much anything so long as the decisions are taken out of his hands.

“Come here,” Tony murmurs, sliding into the space beside Peter, arms open. Peter finally feels at home when he crawls into the awaiting hug. “MJ mentioned Say Yes to the Dress bingeing, you feel up for making fun of more dress choices?”

Peter laughs half-heartedly against Tony’s chest, tucking himself into him like a child would, and nods, breathing in the soothing scent of motor oil and expensive cologne.

He knows he’ll fall apart again, he knows that it’s not going to be a permanent solution, but the time being, he has Tony’s arms around him, a reality TV show quietly keeping them company, and the relief of having time to feel miserable before he has to pick himself up, it’s enough for now. It’ll be enough.

He’ll be okay with people like Tony and MJ at his side.

He’ll be okay.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @fancyxparker @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @justme--emily @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

#lyss writes #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #michelle jones #mjpeter #spideychelle #if you want #platonic or romantic idc #irondad and spiderson #irondad fic #spiderman #iron man #tw mental illness #tw depression #tw university #lmao i feel like i need to include that just in case other people don't even want to hear about it anymore #tw dissociation

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ipuckwithhockey · 4 years ago

Text

Always in Your Corner- Boone Jenner

a/n: So i wrote a Boone fic. This is at least a 5 parter, and I have the next few parts written. Let me know what you think. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Summary: You were happily engaged to your perfect boyfriend when everything came tumbling down on you. The person you turned to just so happened to be your long time friend, Boone Jenner. The ever loyal Boone is there to help you get back on your feet. Little did you know, Boone had been pining after you for all these years, he’s just not sure if you’ll ever feel the same way about him.

Warnings: Cheating, Swearing, Anxiety if you squint, Sex, talk about sex and the use of protection

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Boone met you years ago when you were doing a two semester internship with the Blue Jackets. Boone’s career had just started to take off and you were still in your undergrad. Although you were only at your internship a few days a week, you quickly got to know the guys on the team. Now, all these years later, you had a marketing job in Columbus and you were still friends with the boys.

You and Boone really hit it off all those years ago, and you’ve become close friends. However, no matter how many times your friends chirped the two of you about dating, neither of you ever crossed that line of friendship. You loved Boone, but just as a friend. And you knew he felt the same way about you. Or at least you thought he did.

Unbeknownst to you, Boone had been pining after you since the day you met. Back then you guys were just kids, and once he settled on the fact that you would never see him as anything more than a friend he tried to brush off his feelings as a small crush. After your internship ended you continued to hang out with the guys on the team. Boone had watched you go out with a number of different guys and for a while he thought he had grown out of his feelings for you. It wasn’t until Craig came around that he realized he was still very much in love with you.

Craig was now your fiancé of almost four months, and your boyfriend of three years. He was going to law school while you were in PT school, and a mutual friend had set you up. He was the perfect guy. He was handsome and smart, and said all the right things. He was romantic and sweet... and good in bed. There really wasn’t a single thing wrong with him. You fell hard and fast, and it seemed like the first year of your relationship flew by. On your one year anniversary he asked you to move in with him. Then, this summer while you were on vacation with your family, he popped the question. You couldn’t have been happier.

Boone on the other hand was crushed. He knew that the reason he disliked Craig so much was because he really was perfect. It was always easy to pick out major flaws with the other guys you had gone out with, but even Boone had a hard time hating Craig. He was a nice guy who treated you right. Boone even thought that had Craig not been dating the love of his life, they would have actually been good friends. It’s not that Boone was rude to Craig, he was always friendly, and they had gotten to know each other pretty well, but he could never get over the fact that at the end of the night you were going home with a guy that wasn’t him.

Being the good friend that he was, Boone was always supportive of your relationship because he knew Craig made you happy. He wanted you to be happy, but that didn’t stop him from feeling sad for himself when you called to tell him you were engaged.

That was the end of July, and now it was November. The season had started and quickly picked up pace. The Jackets were doing well, but because of how busy you had been with work you hadn’t made it to a game in a while. The last time you saw Boone may have been their season opener. Between work and planning a wedding for the following year, you didn’t have much free time. Boone understood, and his busy schedule never made a social life easy anyway. That’s why it was even more surprising to see you behind his front door that night. He was just cleaning up from dinner when he heard a knock. Thinking it was just a neighbor he quickly went to open it, but when he did he was greeted with you. You were still dressed in your work clothes and he assumed you had come straight from your work.

“Hey! I didn’t forget we made plans did I?”

You follow him in the door and take off your jacket as you head for his couch. “No, I just needed somewhere to think that wasn’t my house or work, and your place is about half way between the two so it seemed like a good option.” You’ve barely even looked at Boone and the concentrated look on your face tells him there’s definitely something on your mind. When you got into your head like this you couldn’t be stopped. You just had to think it out on your own. But when Boone offered you some water, and you requested a glass of wine instead, he realized this was probably a little more serious than what color the bridesmaid dresses should be.

“So are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He hands you the wine glass and you just shake your head. You still needed to think some more before you were ready to talk. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go to Boone with your problems, you were close and he was someone you felt comfortable talking about anything with, but this was something that if you said it out loud it might just become real, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

Nearly 20 minutes pass before you look over at Boone who was scrolling through his phone. He looks back at you and sets his phone down thinking you might be ready to talk, but instead you just turn away again.

Your glass of wine is long gone, and knowing that you have to get home you don’t ask for a second. It’s been almost an hour since you got to Boone’s and you still haven’t spoken a word since you greeted him. You’re not sure what to do at this point, so you think that leaving may be your best answer. You start to get up and walk towards his door, but he catches your arm as you round the corner of the couch.

“Woah woah woah. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but if there’s something serious going on you can talk to me. You know I’ll always be there for you.” This is the Boone you loved. The loyal to a fault, caring, Boone. The genuine concern he has in his eyes is what gets you. You swear he’s like a puppy, you just can’t say no to him.

You let out a big breath before looking back at him, “I think Craig cheated on me.”

It’s the first time you’ve set it aloud, and you can feel a sense of panic rush in.

Boone isn’t even sure he heard you right.

Cheated on you?

Craig?

What the fuck.

What Boone is sure of is that you wouldn’t just throw an accusation like that around without being pretty damn sure you were right.

“Wait. What? Why do you think he cheated on you?”

“Well, about a week ago I was doing laundry and I found a condom in his work pants.”

You say it so casually, and Boone isn’t really sure what the problem is, “Okay… Why does that mean he cheated on you?”

“Because I’m allergic to latex. And the condom I found wasn’t latex free. I know I sound kind of crazy but we’ve been together for three years and one, he would never buy a condom that was made with latex, and two, we rarely even use condoms…”

There are a few other reasons too, like the fact that you barely see each other. Between your two jobs you’ve been super busy the last couple of months. Craig was working crazy hours trying to make partner at his firm, and you had been brushing off his lack of interest in you for him being stressed at work. You also hadn’t had sex in nearly a month. The lack of conversation combined with the lull in your sex life didn’t seem like that big of a deal until that damn condom showed up, but when you saw it you knew.

While you’re talking about your sex life Boone is mentally trying not to puke at the thought of another man touching you. Not only that, but he’s boiling at the thought of a man treating you this way. He’s not here to be a jealous friendzoned idiot, he’s here because you’re in crisis, and he has to remind himself of that before he speaks again.

“Y/N, what are you going to say to him?”

This is another reason why you didn’t want to say anything before. You weren’t sure if you were even going to mention it to Craig. You were supposed to be getting married next year. He had just proposed in July. There was no way he didn’t love you. Right? He wouldn’t have asked you to marry him, just to turn around and cheat on you a couple months later. Right?

You’re afraid to look at Boone’s puppy dog eyes so you just keep looking at the floor when you finally reply, “I don’t know… I don’t know if I’m even going to say anything.”

Again, Boone is shocked by your words. He might be more shocked at this statement, than the actual news of Craig’s indiscretions.

“I’m sorry but the fuck do you mean you’re not going to say something? Y/N, if you’re so sure that he cheated on you why the fuck are you just going to let it go?”

He’s pissed, and you can tell. His boldness takes you by a bit of surprise but you’re quick to retort, “Boone, to be honest I shouldn’t have even mentioned it to you. This is between me and Craig. I don’t expect you to understand, but we’re ENGAGED. We’re getting married. He loves me, and I love him, and if he messed up once then maybe I just don’t need to know about it. Everybody makes mistakes.”

It’s like you know you’re lying to yourself in the moment, but the weight of the ring on your left hand is telling you to ignore that feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“How is this “between you and Craig” if you never even talk about it with him?? How can you just ignore this? This isn’t like you.”

“Well Boone, it’s really not up to you... It’s late. I should get home.” You turn and head for the door, and Boone doesn’t stop you. When he hears the door slam behind you he’s seething from knowing that the ‘perfect Craig’ cheated on you and that you were just going to let it go.

When you wake up the next morning Craig had already left for work, and you turn your phone on to find a text from Boone.

Booner: I’m sorry about last night, you know I just want you to be happy. Don’t forget I’m always be in your corner.

You know he means what he says, but you can’t bring yourself to confront Craig. If you can’t do that then you know you can’t reply to Boone, not when deep down you know that he’s right.

——

It’s been almost two weeks since you opened Boone’s message, and you still hadn’t replied. He tried calling a couple times but you haven’t heard from him in days. Boone knew that eventually you would come to your senses, or at least he hoped that you would. Even if you didn’t end up with Boone, he knew you deserved to be with someone better than Craig. Against everything else in your body something in you told you that you were going to make this work. You loved Craig. He loved you.

You left work early that day and when you got home you changed into a new lingerie set that had been collecting dust for weeks in your closet. When Craig got home you greeted him, and like any man, he was thrilled at the site of a woman in lace.

You thought that maybe sex would help bring some fire back into your relationship, but it didn’t work the way you thought it would. The sex was quick and when he finished he didn’t even bother getting you off. He just rolled off you and headed for the bathroom.

That night as you heard him snoring next to you, you laid awake knowing it was true. You couldn’t keep kidding yourself. He wasn’t the perfect guy you had met three years ago. You had to talk about this, and even then there was a part of you that hoped you would be able to work though this.

You’re not sure if you even slept that night, but you get up before he does and you decided that it was time. As you quietly get ready for the day you try to decide how you’ll bring it up. How are you supposed to confront someone who cheated on you? They definitely didn’t teach this in your PT classes…

You decide to grab the condom in question from where you hid it in your bedside table, and you set it on a plate at the kitchen island. As you move around preparing your breakfast you hear him get out of the shower and you know he’ll be coming out any minute. When he eventually rounds the corner he’s dressed in a suit and is looking down at his phone. It’s not until a couple minutes later that he even sees the condom sitting, in all of its glory, on your kitchen island.

“Babe? Why is there a condom on our counter?”

You turn around to face him and look him right in the eyes. “I found it… I found it in the pocket of your pants two weeks ago.”

“Ok, It’s just a condom…” He’s a good lawyer and therefore a good liar, but you know this man like the back of your hand and you know you’ve got him caught. The feeling that washes over you doesn’t feel like victory, it feels more like defeat.

You sigh, “Craig. Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be. For both of our sakes, just be honest with me.”

His phone and briefcase have now been gently set on the island that separates the two of you and he lets out the secret he’s been keeping for longer than you expected.

“I umm.. I uh- I’ve been sleeping with Chelsea for a few months.”

A few months. That means three, right? You’ve only been engaged for four… Somehow you still hadn’t prepared yourself enough for what was unfolding in front of you. You thought maybe he had messed up, that he made a mistake one time. But no, he had been having a three month long affair with his fucking secretary. The secretary that congratulated you at your engagement party. The secretary that had gotten you beautiful engraved wine glasses as an engagement gift. On any other day you may have even considered Chelsea a friend.

“Were you going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me walk down the aisle next year, knowing that you were going to go back into work a married man and fuck your secretary?”

The words you spit out were laced with hatred. The layers of bullshit that you had built up convincing yourself that he loved you had been quickly torn away. No longer were you looking at your relationship with rose colored glasses. He hasn’t even said anything back. The coward had the balls to cheat on you for months after your engagement but couldn’t even look you in the eyes when he got caught.

“Why the hell would you even ask me to marry you if you were just going to go cheat on me?”

There is silence in your kitchen until he surrenders an answer to you, “It just felt like the right thing to do… We’ve been together so long and everyone was asking when we were going to get married… and then I thought my bosses would probably like it if I was engaged since no one really makes partner unless they’re married… and I knew you wanted to get married. And I love you I really do. And we can make this wor-“

He’s the one panicking now and you can’t even believe he’s trying to salvage this right now. The perfect guy you once knew was long gone. It’s clear to you that your impending marriage was only a strategic move to influence his career.

You can’t listen to his bullshit any longer, so instead you just turn and walk back to your bedroom. He starts to follow you, but you close and lock the door behind you. You lean back and slide to the floor. Finally letting your emotions get the best of you, you let out choked sobs.

Eventually he leaves you and you hear the door to your apartment close behind him. As you cry you lay on the floor of the bedroom you shared with the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. You don’t know how long you cry, and you’re not sure when you fall asleep either.

When you wake up your clock tells you that you’ve been on the floor for almost two hours. Your body feels numb and all you want to do is stay sprawled out on the carpet, but you know that the battle isn’t over yet. After you text your boss to let her know you’re sick, you get yourself up and start packing. You grab suitcases from the hall closet and start grabbing your clothes.

You get as much as you can in your car and before you know it the apartment you once shared is only half full. You’re actually surprised you packed so quickly, and that it all fit in your car. You leave your key and your ring on the kitchen counter, and you know you don’t need to leave a note explaining anything. He already knows it’s over.

Before you walk out the door, something catches your eye. Two wine glasses. They’re sitting on the bar cart you had bought Craig for Christmas last year. You don’t even think, and before you know it you’ve taken them and tossed them into the kitchen sink. They shatter on impact.

You didn’t bother with taking stuff like the dishes or furniture the two of you had bought together. The things you took with you were only yours. Clothes and items you owned before the two of you lived together. You took things like the pictures from your graduation, your favorite blanket, and the puck Boone had given to you after your last game as a CBJ intern.

Boone. You hadn’t even spoken to him since your argument… You didn’t have anywhere to go now, and Boone did say he was always in your corner, so you start the ignition and turn your car in the direction of his apartment.

#boone jenner #boone jenner imagine #boone jenner fic #boone jenner fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #columbus blue jackets #always in your corner fic

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cowboyshit · 4 years ago

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twenty questions

tagged by: @dustofinsanity (thank you so much my dear!!!!!!)

what do you prefer to be called name-wise? honestly I’ll probably answer to most things as long as they aren’t mean. but ash, ashley, doe, those seem to be the solid three I’m known by around here when is your birthday? november 30th! where do you live? in a tiny, backwoods cow-town smack dab in the middle of california three things you are doing right now? filling this questionnaire out, eating dinner I just finished cooking, and petting sadie with my foot since she’s curled up at my feet after she finished her dinner four fandoms that have peaked your interest. I guess I can go with four I’ve been heavily involved with, even though there’s plenty more than that since I’m a little fangirl at heart, but wrestling (obviously), black sails, the night shift, and pirates of the caribbean how has the pandemic been treating you? uh, I mean, it hasn’t been great and I’ve had to deal with some pretty bad shit as all of us have, and probably some of my worst mental health battles I’ve had to face in about a year or so, but honestly? I just kind of count my blessings these days. lucky to still be employed, even if my pay got a little cut it was nothing that keeps me from paying my bills. all I had to do was take away a few luxury things to make ends meet, and that’s a lot, LOT less than other people have had to do. so yeah, it’s been pretty shitty, this year has been bad news after bad news both personally and globally, but whatever. it could be worse. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? it is no-joke like a four-way tie. a bunch of good songs were in my discover weekly and I’ve been playing four of them on non-stop repeat one after the other. oh! and one my best friend showed to me. this baby don’t cry by k. flay, rock bottom by grandson, ok ok by hoko, and insurgents by the poolside by denny recommend a movie. i’ve jumped into holiday mood early af because tbh I need the holiday cheer, so keeping in that theme, I suggest the holiday with jude law because DUH how old are you? thirty! school, university, occupation, other? had some college, been working in my current career for the past ten years. hoping to pursue a promotion finally since my supervisors have been telling me for the past eight years that I need to promote do you prefer heat or cold? cold pleeeaaaase! I’m a radiator and put off heat like nobody’s business. I’m always warm. name one fact others may not know about you. this is hard because I just constantly blab everything about me, and I have two people who literally know EVERYTHING about me lmfao uhhh I guess... something people may not know... uhhh... on my dad’s side of the family one half was ashkenazi jewish who had to flee germany to avoid the holocaust, where they went to live in italy, while the other half were nazi’s committing some pretty bad stuff that my family won’t talk about, even to this day. funny how two descendants eventually met in america and fell in love, huh? and when they DID fall in love one of them was half italian and in the mafia! so I always joke that my bubbly cheerful self is a descendent of some pretty evil shit, and it feels like a nice little stab at those shitty ancestors of mine. are you shy? uhhh yeah and no??? like. I think I’m shy, since all interaction terrifies me and exhausts me, but everyone tells me I’m a social butterfly? and I’ve noticed in places I’m comfortable and confident, I do tend to be less shy and more involved and interactive? but I think I can be shy. a lot of waiting for other people to initiate because I’m too afraid to, struggling to talk or carry a conversation at times... I don’t know I think I’m overcomplicating this answer LOL preferred pronouns? she/her! biggest pet peeves? gatekeeping, to be perfectly honest. I stopped following wrestling back in 2014 because when I first tried to get into the fandom, someone was trying to gatekeep a wrestler I also liked and had started making content for and they made me feel like shit for liking them, and I absolutely hated it. that’s why it took me an entire two years of quietly lurking in the wrestling fandom before I finally got brave enough to come out of the woodwork, and I’m grateful I’ve been so well received this time around. but now I’m hyper-sensitive to gatekeeping and I fucking hate it. no joke. and since it’s a pet peeve and I’m irked just remembering all that bs I went through, ima say I’m only a part of fandom to share my love of whatever that thing is with other people who love it too. I can’t stand anyone who thinks they have some sort of “claim” over a celebrity or a show or anything. get a different identity that isn’t wrapped up in that thing and stop seeing it as a threat when other people like it. be happy someone else is as passionate about that thing as you are and make a friend. damn. what is your favorite “dere” type? I’m pretty sure this is something with anime or that originated from anime, right? unfortunately I don’t know what they are so I can’t say LOL I don’t even know if I’m right about it coming from anime tbh rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be. 4, 5, but I’m putting in the foundation now and working to make it a 6, 7, or possibly 8 by a year or two from now. what’s your main blog? funnily enough? this one. my OTHER blog that was my main blog since I joined tumblr in 2009 got shoved to the side for this one last year LOL I assumed I’d log onto this blog once in awhile, but now it took over my whole damn life so here I am I guess list your side blogs and what they’re used for. I’m going to be fair and ONLY list my active ones because I have a few side blogs from when I role-played on tumblr that I haven’t touched in over a year. @doedreamss is my non-wrestling blog that WAS my main blog before this one, @cowboysht is my archive where I am ONLY putting my original gifsets/analysis/fanfiction so that one day I can offer people a blog of just my original work and no other posts (the queue is very slowly catching up I think I’ve queued posts up until june this year), @illfatedandstarcrossed is just a non-frequently used outlet for me to mope and dump emotions when I get sad about my relationship things (like a diary! but... public? and not my original thoughts? LOL), and then I have one more blog but it’s locked and private and it’s LITERALLY my diary where I can just vent when I got shit I wanna get off my chest but don’t necessarily want people to see it. Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? I probably won’t talk to you daily, tbh. I may not even talk to you weekly. socializing takes a lot out of me, on top of an already energy draining day-to-day in my personal life. I have a handful of people I connect with who I talk with frequently, but unfortunately as much as I’d love for it to be endless, I have to keep that list short for my own sanity. my infrequent conversations mean absolutely nothing about my lack of interest in you or how much I care about you. my granny once said I would be the perfect friend for someone you only want to talk to twice a month and she thought she was insulting me, but deadass I just said “YEAH! EXACTLY!!”

tagging: I really like this one so I WANT to tag people, but I feel braindead and also just want to post it cause I feel like I am definitely gonna forget to tag someone tbh aaaaahh okay okay I’m just gonna throw some names out there but please don’t feel pressured to do this (it is TWENTY questions) @kennyhoemega, @champbucks, @superkickparty, @adampage, @hintsofsunshine, @audreyhrnes, @sheslikealostflower, @lancearchers, @champnick, @janelanutella, @edgecution, @superrezzy00, @wardl0w, @writinglionqueen, @orangechuckiet, @hungmanhorsecarriage, @icouldbesus, @thatnerdwriter, @rampagewriting, @snarkandsarcasmftw, @tetsuyainthesky AND I DUNNO JUST ANYONE WHO WANTS TO OK I LOVE YOU ALL BYE

#ashleys playin #not wrestling related #long post for ts #long post

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captainscanadian · 4 years ago

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Hope | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 6)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Just when Bucky had thought he was hopeless, fate had other plans for the two of you.

Word Count: 2800+

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Patient!Reader

Warnings: A little angst, injury & pure dumbassery.

A/N: This fic was my entry for @wkemeup‘s 4K Writing Challenge. I would like to dedicate this part (and all others) to @dramadreamer14 because she just gets me, okay? I DON’T DO TAGLISTS!

As human beings, we all have an inherent need to experience some kind of physical contact with others. This could be a simple handshake, or the tightest hug that lasts a good minute.

In medical school, we were taught that touch deprivation could often lead to an indescribable loneliness among other mental health concerns - including depression, anxiety, sleeplessness and a lack of attachment securities.

Physical touch helps with the release of happy chemicals in our brain, and we all end up becoming a little less hopeless then we were before.

When Ethan and I broke up, I found myself having a hard time sleeping at night. I was constantly tossing and turning through the night, barely getting any sleep and regretting it by the time I made it into morning rounds.

At first I thought it was because the bed was getting cold without Ethan being there. I didn’t miss him; he was a dick and I know I deserved so much better than that cheating bastard. But something just felt so wrong, and I did not know what it was until months later.

What I hadn’t realized though, was that I was just unbelievably touch starved. I was longing to be held in someone’s arms, preferably Ethan’s at the time since the wounds were still fresh. But I was still longing. I needed the attachment security.

Looking back now, I know that I may have had more than one reason for sleeping with Dr. Winston. Some people may assume that I slept with my attending to get in on a surgery, which is partially true though, I won’t deny it. My professional endeavors do take precedence over my personal benefits. But the real reason why I did it was beyond that. I just happened to realize that I was just so fucking touch starved.

Jake knew it too.

The moral of the story though… we all need to be touched, to be held in someone’s arms, to feel loved. I don’t know if what Jake and I have is love. The strings are not really attached. But I think it is safe to say that I no longer feel deprived of touch - all thanks to him.

After all, I guess I’m not as hopeless as I thought I was.

When Rosie Bender had entered her friend’s house that evening, she had half expected to see him to be out and about the house. It came as a surprise to her that Bucky Barnes had even taken a few days off of work in the first place, as she had always assumed that he was a complete workaholic.

But she understood that after what had happened at your ten year reunion last week, he needed to take some time off to come to terms with his own emotions. After all, he hadn’t taken it all that well when she had found him crying in that parking lot after you had driven away with Pietro and Wanda.

Karma, she’d thought it was, because she remembered how she had found you crying the same way in your high school’s parking lot after your final fight in the cafeteria. It served him right for the way he had treated you, but that did not mean she could care less about him. All she could do was offer him some comfort at a time like that, even though she knew that he deserved every bit of it.

Nevertheless, when she entered his home, she had assumed that he would have made use of his time off by taking care of a few chores around the house. He had always been productive with his time.

But instead she was greeted by the house that looked more like a pig sty, while Bucky was passed out on his living room couch with a hardcover copy of Hopeless with Benefits in his hands. The first two books, Hopeless Romantic and Hopelessly in Love, were sitting atop his coffee table, along with several empty bottles of alcohol and take out containers.

“Oh… shit.” She shook her head as she made her way over to wake him up, her eyes filled with pity of all things.

Damn, he was hopeless - no pun intended. Although a part of herself was feeling shitty for not anticipating that Bucky would voluntarily take days off from work and spend his time binge-reading your books, she could not deny that he was a bit more smarter than she had given him credit. Surely, she was aware of what you had told him. He had spit it all out to her after getting a few drinks in his system.

To think that you had told him that your writing had helped you express your emotions and he had taken to the time to read your books because he wanted to feel what you had felt. Hell, that was so fucking romantic.

But she wouldn’t place her bets on you ever coming to realize that. She knew that you had made it clear about what you wanted from him, and she agreed wholeheartedly with your point of view. Perhaps, Bucky was just too late - and he was an idiot.

Rosie was quick to grab her phone and speed dial her girlfriend, noting that he was certainly in need of an intervention. “Hey, babe… I’m at your brother’s.” She frowned at the sight of him. “You need to get over here right now. He’s… he’s hopeless.”

“I can’t believe you flew all the way out here because I drunk dialed you after my high school reunion.” You called out as you poured two cups of coffee before walking out to your porch, handing one of the mugs to your unexpected visitor who had arrived at your doorstep that morning.

“I didn’t come here because you drunk dialed me.” Harry chirped as he turned over to look at you, accepting the mug from you and taking a sip. “I came here because you drunk dialed me and told me that you wanted to sell me the movie rights to your books. Considering that you’ve had me chasing you around for those rights for years, I just wanted to make sure that you were going to hold up to that deal when you were sober.”

You rolled your eyes at his words before shaking your head. “Oh fuck off, Harry.”

“No, really… that’s why I came.”

“Wanda told you, didn’t she?” You sighed as you took a sip of your coffee. “That I cried to her about my ex and his baby.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. “She mentioned that you said something along the lines of… who gets to have a happy ending.”

“Well, I was drunk.” You admitted, laughing softly. “And I had just given Bucky a piece of my mind. I was bitter about everything.”

“As I said before, rightfully so.” He repeated, leaning against the porch and sighing. “So, if you really were serious about selling me the movie rights, does that mean you’ve finally figured out how it ends? Speaking of happy endings and all...”

You bit down on your bottom lip before shaking your head. “I don’t know how it ends, at least not yet. But I think Hope’s in a good place now. She’s home, and she’s got herself a job at the local hospital. She might be far away from Jake now, but she was doing just fine without him… and she’s surrounded by old friends and certain unwanted memories. She just needs to figure out what she wants.”

“I think she already knows what she wants.” He pointed out with a smirk on his lips. “But she’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

You raised your eyebrow at Harry, shooting him a quick glare.

“Oh come on, you know I’m right.”

“And that’s what I hate about you.” You admitted, because you knew damn well what Hope Anderson wanted.

She might not need it, but she wants it. Just like how you might not need him, but you wanted him too. You wanted him so badly, because you were one hopeless fucking romantic.

As much as you hated to admit it, your writer’s block really was getting the worst of you. Sure, you had figured out what you wanted to write when it came to the plot of the final novel. But getting there was the problem. You just did not know how to get where you wanted to be, figuratively and quite literally speaking.

Having found a hard time writing the scenes between Hope Anderson and her first love, Jason Prescott, which was meant to make up a majority of the novel, you found yourself shutting down your laptop for the umpteenth time that week and retreating to paint the rest of the house.

You had certainly used up the time that you weren’t writing to paint the majority of the interior of the house, and it was safe to say that it looked much more vibrant now that it had been when you had first arrived. But as much as you had transformed the inside of the house, the outside looked just the same. So, you figured that your next mission was to paint the exterior of your childhood home before you get hit by the winter weather.

It was quite ambitious, really. Considering that your experience in house-flipping was quite non-existent, you were quite impressed that you had done something with the place. You had added your personal touches to the house that your mother had owned with pride. Perhaps this really was your way of honouring her.

Nevertheless, you wondered if it was possible to paint the exterior of the house, given that all you had was a few buckets of paint and a ladder that you had borrowed from Nick. Not to mention that there was only one of you. Was this really a one woman’s job?

You were not going to let this discourage you, so you found yourself dressing up in several layers and climbing up the ladder to start your next painting task. What the hell were you doing?

Nick Fury had noticed you drag the ladder out to your driveway after covering up the Porsche, which was why he had found himself watching you in utter disbelief. “Is it just me or have you finally gone bonkers?”

You rolled your eyes at the old man’s words as you continued to apply a coat of primer onto the wall. “I finished up with the inside of the house, so I thought I’d get a head start on the outside.” You responded with a shrug.

“Y/N, should I remind you that it’s the middle of November?” He scolded, crossing his arms against his chest. “Who paints the house in November?!”

“Why? Is there some cardinal rule not to paint a house in November that I don’t know about?”

You knew that the man had a point, but you were also quite stubborn… and bored. It’s not like you had any company, other than Nick.

You hadn’t been returning Rosie Bender’s calls ever since the reunion. Not that you had anything against her. You knew that she had meant well when she had invited you to the reunion, but you could not risk running into Bucky again because of her, knowing that she was dating Becca Barnes, after all.

Pietro and Wanda had left Shelbyville right after your reunion, as they did not plan on staying for Thanksgiving. You understood why they wouldn’t want to stay in this town for so long, neither would you… but what choice did you have in that matter? You had promised yourself that you would not leave town until you finished that bloody novel, and you were quite stubborn about that.

While Harry had paid you a surprise visit the other day, even he had only stayed with you for a few hours. He wanted to get back to Los Angeles and make the arrangements for you to sign off on those movie rights. He seemed very excited that you had come around, to be honest. Hopeless had been his dream project, as he had already had in mind who he wanted to cast as the leads.

“How about Anastasia Belle as our leading lady. I think she’d make a wonderful Hope Anderson.” He had suggested, causing you to raise your eyebrow at him. “I haven’t worked with her in recent years, but we do have history together.”

Anastasia Belle was now a well-known actress in Hollywood, but it was Harry who had casted her as the younger version of his leading lady in the film that gave him his big break.

“She’s like the real life Anna Scott now, isn’t she?”

“Comparing her to Anna Scott is a bit of a stretch.” He admitted. “But I do plan on casting Julia Roberts as the mother… if that tickles her fancy, of course.”

Once again, you hated this man for knowing you so well.

You had been pulled away from your thoughts when you heard the sound of a car pull up to Nick’s driveway, making the man let out a groan.

“I keep telling this kid that I don’t need him to make house calls, but Carol and Maria have got him by the neck.”

You turned over to look towards Nick’s driveway to see Bucky Barnes get out of his Mercedes, dressed in a pair of black jeans, a blue henley, and a bomber jacket. In his hands he held what looked like a medical bag and in his eyes, a twinkling smile as he leaned against his car and looked towards your driveway.

“Good morning, Nick.” He smiled at your beloved next door neighbour, his eyes curiously darting up towards you before he turned back to look at Nick in pure confusion. Why in the world were you painting your house in November?

It’s been a few weeks since he’d last seen you, and you had made yourself very clear that night. You wanted nothing to do with him, so he might as well respect your wishes despite the fact that he was longing so badly to make conversation with you.

He remembered the way you looked that night, in your jeans and your sweater, Your hair and make up looking simple yet beautiful, just like you. He could not deny that you looked gorgeous, in your denim overalls that were stained with paint, and the plaid shirt you had worn over it, he recognized it. It used to belong to your mother.

You were quick to return your gaze toward the wall and continued with your painting. You could care less about his presence, and it seemed that he was here for work. Who cared if he was standing in the driveway that was adjacent to yours, staring up at you as you did your best to avoid his eyes on you. You could feel his eyes on you.

“Dr. Barnes.” The old man cleared his throat, sensing the tension that lingered in the air as you began to paint rather aggressively in hopes of convincing yourself that you did not bother about Bucky being right there.

Nope, you did not care at all. You were just busy painting the outside of your house, and paying attention to whoever was paying a visit to your next door neighbour was none of your business.

But Nick knew you too damn well to know that you were trying to ignore your childhood best friend’s presence in your shared driveway. After all, he had heard the stories of your fallout and your resulting departure from your mother.

“She seems to be doing quite well on her own.” Nick noted. “Let’s head inside, shall we?”

Bucky gave him a nod as he followed him towards his house, but he had barely made it inside when he heard a loud thud that was followed by your shrill scream.

“Y/N!” He was quick to run towards you, seeing that you were now laying on your driveway as the ladder had toppled over.

“OH FUCKING HELL!” You cried in pain, having landed on your ankle. You had felt it twist. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” Your eyes glazed over at the pain, but as you laid there unable to move, you were greeted by the worried doctor who had come to your rescue.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, frowning at the sight of you. “Are you hurt? How are you feeling? Talk to me…”

Perhaps it was his doctor instincts that had made him rush to your aid, but he could not deny that he hated to see you in pain.

“It’s… my ankle.” You winced, your hand clutching tightly onto his and squeezing it in hopes that the pain would go away. “I landed on my ankle and it fucking hurts.”

#kas4kwc #aj writes #hope #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes angst #doctor au #doctor!Bucky

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1281

survey by chasingghosts

Who?

Who was the last person you had an intelligent debate with? Not so sure - maybe Angela and Reena. Our group chat will occasionally veer towards serious topics.

Who was the last person who cooked something for you? Dad, I believe; but I can also hear my mom preparing breakfast downstairs so she will be the next last person haha.

Who was the last person who you heard singing? Other than me, my co-worker Dev’s sibling when we had our weekly ~fade-out-slash-bonding call with the rest of the team last Friday. She had left her mic on while we were all doing the last remaining bits of work for the week and I could hear her sibling humming in the background.

Who was the last person you kissed and it meant something? My ex.

Who was the last person you were upset with? Myself.

Who was the last person you danced with? I don’t really dance with other people unless...like, drunk. But I guess my swaying and bouncing with Angela when we watched Sowoozoo counts.

Who was the last person you felt awkward around? The food delivery rider who was bringing food my aunt wanted to send over to us yesterday. He seemed very confused for reasons I’m still very confused by lmao, so it all made for an awkward encounter.

Who was the last person who borrowed something from you? My mom went into my closet last week to grab something of mine, but I have no idea what it was since I had been half-asleep when she walked in.

Who was the last person who showed you how to do something? My dad taught me how to make coffee that wasn’t from a 3-in-1 sachet lol.

Who was the last person you went shopping with? I don’t really go shopping, much less with other people.

Who was the last person you had a crush on? I haven’t crushed on anyone since my ex, and the people I find attractive nowadays are all celebrities haha.

Who was the last person who made you cry? Myself.

Who was the last person you shared a bed with? Oh, that’s been a while. Still Gabie, I’m pretty sure.

Who was the last person you got drunk with? We were quite a bunch at Angela’s place two weeks ago, but I’ll name a few - her, Reena, Pia, Hans, Al.

Who was the last person who touched your hair? Not sure. Maybe my dad.

What?

What was the last pair of shoes you wore? It was a pair of adidas sneakers.

What was the last birthday party you attended? The last birthday celebration (not necessarily a party) I went to was Angela’s. I darted to her house straight after work that day cos there was no way I was going to miss out on her birthday.

What was the last thing you said to your mother? I think it was just to bid her goodnight last night.

What was the last song you listened to? Seesaw by Suga.

What was the last thing you thought about before going to sleep last night? I was thinking about my headache and how I wanted to fall asleep immediately.

What was the last fun thing you did with your family? We had a Zoom party yesterday to celebrate my cousin Bree’s 12th birthday! Her family sent over takoyaki, milk tea, and pizza to all the households who went and we watched the birthday clips we sent for Bree. It was a lot of fun and it was a super nice break from how monotonous my weekends could be.

What was the last thing you borrowed from someone? My sister’s microfiber cloth so that I could clean my glasses.

What was the last vegetable you ate? I’m blanking out...which is weird because my dad puts veggies in most of the dinners he makes hahaha. Probably something like lettuce or pechay??

What was the last thing you bought online? My friends and I pre-ordered the second season of In The Soop so that we can watch it when it premieres later in the month. We’ll also have to purchase our tickets to BTS’ next online concert that’ll be happening this month too...thanks for reminding me I have to raise it with them haha.

What was the last thing you had to drink? I haven’t had to drink anything recently but the last thing I took a sip of was my coffee.

What was the last reason you went to see a doctor? Continued from yesterday morning. I had had a fever all week long and we couldn’t figure out how to lower my temperature, so we needed to go so I could finally be diagnosed with whatever it was. It turned out to be a UTI.

What was the last non-food item you purchased? Pre-order slots for a pay-per-view series.

What was the last type of yoghurt you ate? Ooh, I don’t like yogurt. I’m blanking out on the last time I had it.

What was the last fast food place you ate at? I haven’t dined in at a fast food place in a while – I think it may have been Jollibee, when Angela and I met up back in February. But I did get KFC for delivery a few weeks ago.

What was the last thing that bothered you and kept you awake? Doesn’t really happen to me nowadays. I get knocked out most nights.

When?

When was the last time you embarrassed yourself? I guess yesterday? I went to Starbucks to work for a little bit but since I hadn’t done dine-in for a couple of months, I had no idea the government modified the rules a bit and required people to bring their vaccination cards if they wanted to dine in. The barista explained the new rule and I ended up profusely apologizing because I didn’t have mine on me, and I also offered that I could just do take out; but she was nice and let me off the hook and just confirmed with me if I’ve had my shots.

When was the last time you watched a movie with someone? Just myself. I did watch Squid Game - binge-watched all 9 episodes straight - with my sister last Saturday, though.

When was the last time you charged your phone? Earlier this afternoon.

When was the last time you were sick with a cold? I dunno. 1 or 2 years ago, maybe? I rarely get colds.

When was the last time you spoke to a family member on the phone? Yesterday when my mom called me up.

When was the last time it rained where you live? Earlier today. Explains why it’s been humid the last few days.

When was the last time you laid awake, unable to sleep? Like I said, struggling to fall asleep doesn’t really happen to me anymore. I usually exhaust myself until I feel like I can pass out the second I close my eyes.

When was the last time you met someone new? I want to say two Fridays ago when I pitched a presentation to a new set of people but still within a client brand we manage.

When was the last time you filled up your car with petrol/gas? I don’t drive a lot, so it’s been a few months.

When was the last time you ate popcorn? Don’t like popcorn so I honestly can’t remember. My mom makes them occasionally though so I may have grabbed one or two just to have something to chew, sometime within the year.

When was the last time you went to a school event? March last year. A school event that had been held on a Friday was literally the last place I was at – by the time that very next Monday rolled around, classes were already suspended.

When was the last time you took the trash out? I’m not normally in charge of that chore so I haven’t done it.

When was the last time you did anything to change your appearance? Like...10 minutes ago? I just fixed my bun since my hair had started to look disheveled from being up all day.

When was the last time you cooked at home? Sometime in like November last year when I tried to make a sandwich. Anyway, my dad just left today to finally head back to his work for the first time in nearly two years, and I told myself (and him) that I should try to learn cooking at least one meal so that I can manage well while he’s gone haha.

When was the last time you had a sleepover? Maybe January of last year.

Where?

Where did you last go shopping for clothing? Not sure about physical spaces but I did open my Zalora app recently to look for cute bucket hats that I’ll probably never buy anyway hahaha.

Where did you last go on a date to? I don’t even remember. I deleted all photos a long time ago.

Where was the last wedding you went to? Manila Cathedral, if I’m not mistaken. This was well over a decade ago, though. I haven’t been to any other wedding since.

Where did you last park your car, other than home? Angela’s house when I visited a couple of weeks ago.

Where did you last leave your keys? Dining table.

Where did your last kiss take place? By my ex’s car when I was bidding her goodbye.

Where did you last go for a walk to? The mall, yesterday.

Where did you last take a vacation to? It was a staycation more than anything, but we stayed at Tagaytay for a night at the start of this year to celebrate my dad’s birthday.

Where did you last go to celebrate your own birthday? We stayed at home. I reported to work that day then just had a huge dinner with my family haha.

Where was the last place you had dinner at? No clue. I want to say Ramen Nagi? when I ate there on my own last February.

Where did you last go to exercise? Rooftop since it’s open-space and no one can see me.

Where did you last take public transport to? I don’t take public transport.

Where does the last person you hung out with live? A city close to mine.

Where did you last visit for the first time? A Korean restaurant close to Angela’s place.

Where did you last take a photo? Just my room.

#survey #surveys

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runawayfairie · 4 years ago

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━♡ guess the 21 YEAR OLD NOVEMBER baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because AHN SEOJIN is just as RAW as the month of NOVEMBER. wait, why do they remind me of LEE GAHYEON? beyond that, they seemed OUTGOING & RESOURCEFUL upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of REBELLIOUS & SELF-SERVING though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX # 4 / APARTMENT # 6 / FLOOR # 3 ; they seem to have a lot going on with HER job as BUSKER (unemployed).( Bee, 24, she/her, cst. )

Hello everyone!!! My name is Bee ( the 2nd lol. She/her, 24, cst! ) and I’m so happy to be in this group with my sad girl Seojin! Please add me on discord too, its so much easier to message there! bee121#9991 I will be posting links to her navigation but I’ll also put in a little bio under the cut with some plot ideas and connections I need filled out! Feel free to message me or like this post and I’ll come message you lovely people!! ━♡

Profile || Wanted Connections || Plots || Full Nav Pin Board & Playlist for Muse!

━♡ STATS & BASIC INFO

☾ Ahn Seojin is 21 years old, born November 5th, 1999 and the moment she was born her life was nothing but struggle.

☾ Backstory!! Seojin never knew her dad because she was actually the result of a scandal between a man who was married with a family of his own and her mother. The two had a secret relationship for years before she came along, naively her mother thought he would do something for them but instead of physically being there for them he simply paid her off and forced her to never speak of the affair or the accidental kid. He gave them enough to get by on, or what he deemed was enough, and sent them away. Her mother had to work multiple jobs to keep them afloat and they were happy for a while with just the two of them. Her mother died her junior year of high school and she ended up dropping out to work because she wouldn’t of survived if she’d continued school. With no other family to lean on, any relatives on her maternal side disowned them the second they found out about her and she didn’t even know her father, not that she would want his help anyway, she was on her own and did her best to get by. This resulted in her having to work any job that would give her a chance but it wouldn’t be long until she was fired for stealing food or supplies she wasn’t able to pay for, since most of her paycheck went towards trying to keep the apartment her mother and her had. It also wasn’t long before she eventually lost that too and she was on the streets for a while, finding people to stay with or spending most nights in internet cafes or norebong bars. She finally realized that she could make more money singing in busy shopping districts, especially when its known for attracting tourists, and with this new “job” she was able to barely afford a new apartment! Now she’s living in Dallyeog and life is looking up!

━♡ PERSONALITY

x Just like the changing and chilling weather of November, Seojin is quick to adapt to whatever life throws at her, no matter how dark or difficult it may be. She is very extroverted and comes off as extremely sweet and friendly, but she is quick to get defensive and although she is always dealing with something she rarely ever shares her personal issues with others. She likes to live in the moment and not worry about the past or the future, even if she does dwell and overanalyze everything in her life when she lays down to try and sleep.

x She likes fun above all else, any excuse to have a good time is something she is totally down for, anything that keeps things light and impersonal. When people try to get to know her personally she tends to take a step back, putting up a bit of a wall around herself for protection.

x She likes to be the center of attention, the life of the party, and she tends to surround herself with a lot of people and from an outsider’s perspective you could assume that she was very popular and had many friends, but she never really let anyone get close enough to truly start to know who she really is. She is worried that people will think she’s no good, broken, a waste of space- all that stuff, and she tries to make herself as likable as possible so that people will want to keep her around.

━♡ WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

★ Family Connection wanted!! Seojin never knew her dad because she was basically a “mistake” from the beginning, no one could know about her lest her father’s “perfect reputation” be soiled by HIS mistake. He couldn’t let his own family find out either so she wasn’t even told his name, she took her mother’s surname which is exactly how she wanted it. She does eventually find out who he was and learns that she had a half sibling (or siblings) that were living in Seoul and she wants to learn more about them. Do they know about her?? Would they be mortified? Embarrassed? Angry? Would they be able to get along maybe..? After all, they are the only family she has now, so she feels like she has to try. || OPEN ||

★ Much like a stray cat, Seojin is always over at other people’s apartments begging for food, she seems to always know when someone is cooking, and she tends to spend a lot of time on couches receiving love and affection while she talks about where she went out the night before. Her heat and electricity is often shut off at some point towards the end of each month because she is late on payments, which is also why she’s always seeking out meals. (Rip her empty fridge lol) I am needed many muses who either don’t mind her coming over for food or people who seem to have to just deal with her because she’s cute and they pity her or just enjoy her company. || OPEN for many muses ||

★ As a way to deal with what she’s been through, Seojin has been known to party and go out, sometimes more than she really should, and you can be sure that she’d never turn down an invitation to have a night out on the town! She goes out often and makes it almost a game to find new places that are tucked away and usually have secret menus. If your muse ever wants a drinking partner, she’s your girl!! || OPEN for many muses ||

★ Wanna go on a picnic? Food and drinks on me! Or well.. The convenient store down the street! She may be a little bit of a clepto.. but it’s not because it’s an addiction, it’s because she needed to do this to get by, and it’s so much easier than paying for things! She’s gotten quite good at it too, she rarely ever gets caught anymore. Does your muse approve? Will they join in? Turn her in? || OPEN ||

★ “Would you light my candle~?” -Rent Seojin comes to your muse’s apartment complaining that her electricity and heat is off and she needs a candle lit and maybe some time to warm herself up. She is looking for company and maybe a place to sleep, and she isn’t too shy about how grateful she would be to them and how she would definitely repay them, make it “worth their while”. ( I get big Mimi vibes from Seojin in most ways but the junky part, she is more into alcohol than drugs. I just love this song so much and think a plot like this scene would be fun! ) || OPEN ||

★ (more to come soon, if you have any ideas feel free to message me!)

#━♡ ahn seojin #━♡ runawayfairie #━♡ krp #━♡ apartment krp #━♡ intro post #━♡ more to come soon!!#━♡ i will be editing this a lot lol

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c-c-cherry · 4 years ago

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I simply must ask... could you spare some spooky Halloween headcanons? I know it’s not quite Halloween yet but I’d love to see your spin on a jojo Halloween!

Oho....hohoho...you have no idea what kind of a beast you’ve awakened in me...

Halloween is arguably the best holiday ever because free candy, costumes, and the weather is fucking PERFECT. (also idk what’s up with the rest of y’all but Canadian thanksgiving is in the middle of October so I’m still riding the high of good thanksgiving food by the time its Halloween (AND I’m half-American so we celebrate it in November too hehehe)

But long story short I love spooky season (and autumn in general) with a burning passion and I am SO willing to go hard on jjba spooky headcanons

Thanks again to @jjadegreen for alway being my best headcanon bud!!

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Part One:

-For the sake of this, I’m making them like 13 or something, like maybe not even a year after they met

-In 19th century England, it was actually pretty typical for them to have a bonfire on Halloween!!

-Halloween costumes were popularized a few centuries ago in France so you bet our phantom blood buds were wearing costumes and shit :)

-I doubt the rich participated in such “unruly” stuff like lighting shit on fire and bearing torches and whatever (but you never know)

-Like George probably spoiled Jonathan with candy as a kid and let him dress up with his school friends and that was it lol

-Dio though OH MY GOD-

-You know based on where he grew up that all that wild shit definitely happened

-He can’t say that he misses living like that, but there’s some kind of weird nostalgia that comes with it

-...which is why Jonathan is really confused when he catches Dio sneaking out of the mansion in the middle of the night

-Begrudgingly, he tells Jojo his plan and this boy’s eyes LIGHT UP

-Instead of being a “stupid, crybaby, tattletale,” as Dio puts it, Jojo is like,,,super hyped

-“Oh! I have an idea! Why don’t we sneak out in costumes so no-one knows it’s us??”

-The sheets on their beds may have two holes in them now, but it's worth it

-They hijack a horse or some shit and skeet over to a giant bonfire

-Dio thinks it's gonna be a drag since Jonathan is there to watch his every move, but it's actually,,,really fun

-As a kid who’s barely ever left his sheltered property, Jonathan is having the time of his life and Dio never thought he would be happy to see Jonathan so happy

-It ends with the two of them sitting by the river, absolutely exhausted from the rush and Jonathan pulls out this bag of shit from his pocket and is like

-“It’s candy!! :D”

-Dio could never really afford things like sweets on Halloween growing up so he’s a bit touchy about it but OH MY GOD that shit is GOOD

-Probably one of the only times where they actually bond properly

-BUT IF THIS IS MY POCKET DIMENSION THEN I CAN SAY THAT THEY BECOME FRIENDS >:)

Part Two:

-I’m just gonna start out with the fact that Joseph is fucking OBSESSED with candy. You know those kids you knew growing up that loved it more than anything on this goddamn earth? *cough cough @jjadegreen*

-That is Joseph

-And now that he consumes that type of shit with the power of mastered Hamon at his fingertips,,,holy shit man,,,it's like a child’s sugar rush but 100x worse

-Caeasr is put in charge of Jojo to make sure he doesn’t do anything idiotic *which he definitely will trust me*

-The MOMENT he goes to the bathroom, Suzi pops in like “JOJO!!!! :) Let's go trick or treating!!!”

-He can’t say no to that, bro,,,he and Suzi are tight ;-;

-While Lisa Lisa is out to meet Speedwagon and Erina and bring them back over to where everyone else is, Joseph sneaks out with Suzi and the two of them dash off into the streets of New York

Caesar: *steps out of bathroom*

“Jojo, what the hell do you and Suzi want for dinner?”

*silence*

“...Jojo?”

*Hears the screams of of children in the distance*

“JOJO, NO—”

-So turns out Joseph’s way of trick-or-treating at such an old age is just terrorizing young children and ransacking them for candy

-Suzi Q is just totally unphased by how awful this is and just thinks its the funniest shit

-Caesar is running out into the streets of New York like ???? and spots Joseph being himself and he could probably just pretend he doesn’t know them

-But,,,Joseph may be an idiot but he’s his idiot and Suzi Q is his bimbo best friend so he goes out to drag them back home

-Erina, Lisa Lisa, and Speedwagon are already home by the time they get back and Caesar sits Joseph down and chews him out in front of everyone

-Erina is super pissed and lectures him about “Joestar values” or whatever and tells a really embarrassing story about how a kid took his candy once when he was little and he cried about it for DAYS

-Caesar is still really angry about it so he replaces all of Joseph’s gummies with sugar free ones (you goddamn know the ones I’m talking about) but he didn’t know Joseph WOULD EAT THEM ALL AT ONCE

-He is so fucking sick on November 1st

-Also off-topic but Lisa Lisa gives out dental floss or some shit on halloween

Part Three:

-Honestly all Jotaro wants to do is buy candy for himself, hole himself up in his room like he always does, and just munch and watch shitty horror movies

-But of course he has actual friends now

-Kakyoin tackles him before he can get his ass upstairs and suggests that they go out and trick-or-treat

-To which Jotaro thinks is a joke and laughs because he’s not only 17, but also 6’5” but Kak’s face looks dead serious

-Kakyoin goes on this long, detailed ramble about how he meticulously made the best Halloween route for them to get the best candy

-Now THIS is when Polnareff abandons whatever he and Avdol are doing to join in on the stupid plan they have

-When Kakyoin comes back with a handful of white sheets, they already know what he’s thinking and its brilliant

Kakyoin’s 5-step, foolproof Halloween plan:

Step one: It’s already established that stands can hold non-stand items (like when Star Plat whipped Iggy across the desert) so what’s stopping them from being able to have sheets over their heads?

Step two: They faze a bit of their stands into the ground so that they at least resemble the height of children (plus non-stand users can’t see anything besides the sheets so it's perfect)

Step three: Polnareff pretends to be the father of these shy children who can’t speak (he looks the oldest) while Jotaro and Kakyoin hide nearby so their stands don’t de-summon

Step four: Hit up every good house in the neighbourhood

Step Five: Candy.

(Kak used to put a sheet over hierophant all the time as a kid and always got twice the amount of candy each year)

-It actually works pretty well, aside from the fact that Star would sometimes scream “ORA” in a really deep, manly, not seven years old at all voice whenever the people at the door would try to speak with him or make him say ‘trick-or-treat’

-They finally reach the richest house in the neighbourhood, where the snootiest lady lives (but she has a shit ton of candy leftover every year since no one goes there)

-Once the stands knock on the door, she starts saying stuff like “ohh, let me see your faces so I make sure you aren’t too old for this” and ducks under to look at the sheets…

-...Only to find that there’s literally nothing there

-She looks up at Polnareff like 👁👄👁 and Kakyoin seems to get the message because one of hierophant’s tentacles grabs her ankle and she SCREAMS and throws her entire candy stash at them, slamming the door behind her

-Half of them are full-sizes chocolate bars. Candy acquired.

-When they get back, Joseph is so fucking angry that they didn’t invite him out for Halloween shenanigans >:(

-Avdol and Holy have a very nice chat, meanwhile. They answer the door while everyone's gone and are so sweet to the kids about their costumes :)

-Also Avdol is 100% the kind of person to bake pumpkin seeds and season them and shit

-Kakyoin sorts all his candy and puts it on a spreadsheet and also make a pie chart just like he does every year

-T’was a very successful halloween

Part Five:

-Giorno is probably short enough to go out if he really wanted to

-But he has maturity issues and there would be no way in hell that the Bucci Gang would catch him going out in a costume and begging for candy

-So as soon as all the daily tasks and shit are met Giorno locks himself in his room

-He honestly wants some candy and to watch spooky movies with the gang but he just feels like an outsider to all of that stuff since he never did it

-So Bruno slips a thing of dracula-themed chocolate pudding under his door and leaves him be :)

-Narancia and Mista DO go out, however

-Not only do they go out and steal shit, but they also go and hit up houses for candy just for the fun of it

-The moment the clock strikes 6 Trish is OUT of there

-Girl is hitting up as many parties as she possibly can and eventually meets up with Nara and Mista at some shitty Halloween party and end up just buying really shitty beer and going to the graveyard or something

-Fugo wants none of that shit

-He’s perfectly content sitting with the black cat that Giorno made him and watching shitty reruns of whatever’s on

-Bruno takes out his tacky Halloween apron that definitely looks something like this

-Fugo helps him make all this really good spooky-themed dessert shit and helps him sort the candy in the nut and nut-free bowls :))) (because Bruno really goes and does that)

-Abbacchio seems like the kind of person who would go really fucking hard with Halloween decorations

-Like, no explanation why, he just loves it and everyone knows not to get in his way

-The moment October 1st comes around, this man is in his ELEMENT. He’s READY.

-It’s the one month where he looks anywhere near normal compared to other people and man is ready to rock that shit

-Later that night they go to check on Giorno and find him asleep surrounded by bags of candy

-Turns out he snuck out and had a good time after all :’)

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

You’re wondering why I skipped part 4, right? ↓ ↓

I’m sorry to disappoint y’all, but I don’t think I’m gonna be doing much for Whumptober this year! (I’m just shit at monthly challenges in general lmao) but I think y’all need a breather from all this giant dump of whumpy stuff coming this month, so I, your dear friend Cherry, have decided to write fics throughout the month that I dub SOFT HALLOWEEN :D (with uhhh a side of whump and hurt/comfort and all that shit because I can’t help myself)

It’s gonna vary (hopefully from parts 1-5)! I didn’t add any part four headcanons in here because Jade and I are literally writing part 4 shenanigans first and we didn’t wanna spoil anything :)

SPEAKING OF SPOILERS here’s a horrifying, blurry, teaser picture that’s only gonna make sense once you read the fic:

Isn’t it beautiful?

Hope you enjoyed these!! Tell me what you want the Jojos to do on Halloween!

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Ok so apparently its not normal to sort your candy by type, count it all out and then put it into a spreadsheet which then gets made into a graph? Because I did that. EVERY. FUCKING. YEAR. Ask Jade. She was there every goddamn time. Please I’m begging you someone else tell me you did shit like this I need to know

#jjba #jjba headcanons #halloween #halloween headcanons #jojos's bizarre adventure #phantom blood #battle tendency #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #vento aureo #stardust crusaders #jonathan joestar #ask-c-c-cherry #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #giorno giovanna #spooky month #:)

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lunarsaga · 4 years ago

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EPISODE 1: Here Comes Trouble

[[HERE WE GO, BITCHES! Fanfic and Fanart combine to make some unholy mix of Time Consumption that will not leave me alone.

THE LUNAR SAGA, EPISODE 1, START!

Note: the text in the panels doesn't match the actual written portion of the fic ^^; I tried my best but I didn't wanna redraw all of this... ]]

===============

Kagome had been gone longer than she usually was, and Inuyasha was getting impatient.

They’d finally gotten their first lead on Naraku since his disappearance—that he was heading in the direction of the Ox and Tiger (Kagome called it “noh-rth-eest”?)—this was no time for her to be going back to her world! He tried to tell her that when she left, but she insisted that she was going home to bring back something that would help them.

She’d been gone for almost ten days now! What could possibly be taking so long?!

The half demon sat beside the well, seething as he waited for something to happen. He’d been at this pretty much constantly since the day after she left. He had half a mind to follow her down the well to her world and drag her back here; he’d done it before, he could do it again.

“Don’t you dare follow me!” Kagome had said before she left, “I might be gone a while, but I promise it’ll be worth it!”

“Ain’t worth it if we lose track of Naraku because you’re taking so long,” he growled to no one in particular. Obviously, he got no response from the dry well, so he stood up and raised his voice: “HURRY THE HELL UP, KAGOME!”

“Inuyasha?”

Inuyasha jumped from surprise when he saw Kagome hop up out of the well. She sat on the edge, smiling just softly. A little embarrassed that he was yelling at the well, Inuyasha folded his arms and cleared his throat.

“It’s about time you got back, Kagome,” he said. “What took you so damn long?!”

Kagome sighed, still smiling as she set her feet on the ground and stepped closer to him. “I told you, I had to get something. It took a second, but I said it’d be worth it, didn’t I?”

“I hope you’re right,” he snorted, “Because if Naraku gets away cos you took too long over there—”

He didn’t get to finish his thought. He hadn’t been paying attention to the well at all; usually, he wouldn’t have needed to. This time, he would definitely regret it. From the depths of the well came a voice he’d never heard before:

“HEADS UP!”

He didn’t even have time to wonder who the hell’s voice it was. Seconds later, something heavy flew out of the well and smacked him square in the face.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

Kagome laughed nervously, holding her hands up, “Uh… that would be her.”

Anger boiling and holding his freshly bruised nose, Inuyasha shouted back at her: “WHO?!”

“Keep your pants on!” Came that same voice again. Inuyasha turned his attention back to the well as someone he’d never seen before pushed herself out of the well.

She dressed strangely—that was a given, she seemed to be from Kagome’s time—and carried a large, oddly-shaped bag on her back. She had thick waves of black hair, much longer than Kagome’s, but pretty much the same shade of jet black. Not only that, she seemed to resemble Kagome in a lot of ways, even if she looked much older. They had the same shape of face, the same nose, and the same round, brown eyes—although, if he looked close enough, he could see a strange pattern in this girl’s irises: little flecks of pale gold, asymmetrically surrounding her pupils.

Inuyasha was immediately on edge, his hand going instinctively for his sword hilt. Kagome saw, and shook her head, setting her hand on his arm.

“Relax, Inuyasha,” She said, “This is who I went back to get.”

“Sorry, did my bag getcha?” The girl asked as she hopped out of the well.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome continued, gesturing to the older girl, “Allow me to introduce you to my older sister. This is Luna.”

For a second, it didn’t set in. Inuyasha blinked once… twice… “Your… sister? You have a sister?!”

“She sure does,” the girl—Luna—stood tall, grinning and holding out her hand. As she did, she said something he didn’t understand. It sounded like weird gibberish. When she saw his face, she laughed and smacked her palm to her forehead. “Right, sorry. Still getting used to speaking Japanese more than I do English.”

Once again confused, Inuyasha just stared at her. “In-glesh?”

Luna nodded. “It’s the common language where I live.”

“Inuyasha, Luna lives in a different place than the rest of our family,” Kagome explained, “She lives in a country that’s across the ocean, called America.”

“A-mare-i-kah…” Inuyasha tried to say. “Sounds weird.”

“Oh it is, definitely.” Luna laughed, going to pick up her bag.

“Is that what took you so long?” Inuyasha asked Kagome, “You had to wait for her to travel across the ocean?”

“Didn’t take as long as you’d think, had to visit mom and gramps and Sota, too.” It was weird how casual this girl was about everything. “But I can explain why I’m here and where I’m from once we get to where we’re going, right?”

“Right,” Kagome agreed, smiling as she led her sister back toward Kaede’s village. “You gotta meet everyone else, too!”

“Looking forward to it.”

Inuyasha wasn’t sure how to process what the hell just happened. It was a lot of information in a very short amount of time, most of which he didn’t understand, and all of which he didn’t really like. He wasn’t sure how to feel about a new person joining their group, nevermind that he never knew Kagome had more family than the ones he’d met before. And the fact that she threw a heavy bag at his face certainly didn’t help. (Well… it was an accident, but still. It hurt.)

Well… at least Kagome was back, and the most important thing was that they could get on with their search for Naraku.

~ ~ ~

Alright, time to back up a little bit.

Now, there may have been a reason why Kagome didn’t really mention her sister. Part of it might have been that it would be hard to explain that her sister lived on another continent, but another part might have been that it would be even harder to explain why. And the reason it would be so hard to explain—for Kagome specifically—would be because of their father.

Now, the Higurashi family had quite a long history of shrine keepers, priests, and priestesses, dating back several hundred years. Along with that lineage came a propensity for spiritual magic and a connection to the supernatural, as well as the metaphysical, and Keiichirou Higarashi—father to Kagome, Luna, and Sota— was no exception. However, he had bigger dreams than shrine-keeping.

A bit of a rebel, Keiichirou spent some time in America during High School as a part of an exchange program. It was there, through the family that hosted him, that he found a world that he never would have imagined.

The underground world of Supernatural Monster Hunters.

He spent his high school years in America learning all about it: how to fight and protect people against different monsters, some of them like the ones his father told him stories of growing up. When he returned home, he declared that he’d found his calling, and when he could finally afford to, he would move to America to follow it.

His father worried about the fate of the Higurashi Shrine if his only child were to abandon their family’s legacy. Keiichirou wouldn’t back down, but found when he returned home, that the Hunting world extended even to Japan—not quite to the extent that it was in the States, but he could still find a middle ground between what he wanted and what his father did.

And in the interim, he fell in love and married a wonderful woman named Mei, who accepted his weird, secret world wholeheartedly.

The Higurashis’ first child was born on the first day of November, during a very full Harvest Moon. When she opened her eyes for the first time, the doctor immediately diagnosed her with partial Heterochromia; her hazel-brown eyes were speckled with gold just around her irises, making it look like she had little crescent moons in her eyes. Keiichirou chose her name for these reasons; he’d heard it when he was in America, a name that meant “moon”. Luna.

It was seven years until their next child came into the world: Kagome, named for the eight-pointed star Mei saw on her chest after she was born. Keiichirou was excited when he heard about that; he said that both of his girls had special gifts, and hoped they would one day do amazing things with them.

But another six years passed… and things weren’t so happy in the Higurashi house. Keiichirou had already started teaching Luna about the Supernatural world, where Mei thought she was too young. Keiichirou had grown weary over the years, still longing to go back to America, where the Hunter culture was strongest.

When Luna was thirteen, Kagome six, and Sota only a newborn, their parents separated.

Luna was old enough at that point, that her parents let her decide where she wanted to be. Enthralled by the idea of being a Hunter, she wanted to follow her father, even if it meant leaving the rest of her family.

Travel between the two countries was difficult; Luna was lucky if she saw her little sister and brother once a year. But they kept in touch as much as they could: by letter, by email, and a phone call every once in a while.

Then, just four years after he and Luna left Japan, Keiichirou passed away very suddenly of an illness. Despite her family’s insistence that she come back and live in Japan, Luna remained in her father’s house. She knew, by then, that she was too far into the Hunter world to leave; not to mention that she had Alice (an old family friend, let’s say for now), who had been helping take care of her anyway. So she stayed in America, as five more years went by.

She hadn’t talked to her sister in months, when she got a call from her out of the blue:

“Hey Luna, um… So, I’ve got quite the story to tell you…”

~ ~ ~

So here she was, Luna Higurashi, a 22-year-old American Monster Hunter, standing 500-ish years in the past, explaining herself to a half-dog-demon, a kitsune, a nekomata, a Demon Slayer, and a Buddhist Monk. All of whom were extremely surprised to find that Kagome had a sister.

“Nice to get to meet you all,” She said, “Kagome told me all about your adventures. She brought me here to help you get rid of that Naraku guy.”

“Kagome never told us she had a sister!” The little kitsune—Shippo—piped up first.

“So I’ve heard,” Luna chuckled, crossing her arms.

Sango, the Demon Slayer, looked rather interested in the guitar case Luna was carrying on her back. “You mentioned you were a Slayer too? That must be an impressive weapon you’re carrying.”

“Huh? Oh, no,” Luna shook her head, tugging on the strap. “This is just my guitar. It’s a musical instrument—all my weapons are in my duffel bag.”

While her attention was on Sango, Luna failed to notice the monk approaching her until he took her hand in his. “A demon slayer and a musician! To think Kagome never told us she had such a beautiful and accomplished sister.”

Luna just stared at him, but she could feel the tension rising from the Slayer next to her. It was like standing next to a crackling thunderstorm with lightning bolts ready to strike. But she had nothing to worry about, Luna wasn’t about to fall for it.

“Never did mention me, huh?” She reversed the gentle grip Miroku had on her hand, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it sideways; a warning. “But she did tell me about you. And if you value your hands, you’ll keep them to yourself.”

Miroku laughed nervously, “Ahahaha—ow! Th-there’s no need to be rash! I meant nothing by it!”

The thunderstorm was gone. Sango was smirking as Luna let the monk go. “Oh, I like her.”

Kagome sighed, shook her head and smiled. “Welcome to the group, sis.”

#inuyasha #inuyasha fanart #inuyasha oc #the lunar saga #lunar saga episodes #luna higurashi #kagome higurashi #sango #miroku #shippo #inucrew #inuyasha au #oc #my ocs #my art

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eightysixed · 3 years ago

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happier than ever

You call me again, drunk in your Benz Drivin' home under the influence You scared me to death, but I'm wastin' my breath 'Cause you only listen to your fuckin' friends I don't relate to you I don't relate to you, no 'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty You made me hate this city

words: 3.2k plot: emma and tomo’s relationship, in a nutshell. trigger warnings: abuse, assault, drugs, cheating, violence, blood, suicidal ideation, nsfw

Five years is a lifetime when you’ve just begun your twenties. It’s half a decade of years so formative and important that you don’t really realize their importance until they have flown past.

Emma spent those years with Tomo.

[ SEPTEMBER 2014 ]

A twenty-one year old goes to an Outkast concert. She gets propositioned by a guy. Rough, pushy, handsy, it’s enough to make her feel suffocated, plan paths of escape or desperately look for a face in the crowd that could intervene. Then he comes in with his buddies and they all but rescue her. How ironic Emma thinks, years later. What a Disney-ified, damsel in distress moment to have and to meet by.

They spend the rest of the concert together, follow it up with an after hours at Los Coyotes, wolfing down soft shells in between food-spitting laughter. Emma, Tomo, and his two buddies. The energy is infectious, and she doesn’t want to say goodbye at the end of the night. It’s a feeling she has never felt before; those sparks in his eyes that are in hers too, the way he grounds and floors her. They exchange numbers and Emma’s face lights up as she’s getting off her Muni owl: it’s a text from him.

It doesn’t take long for his contact name to acquire an Emoji heart next to it, the girl who ridiculed these kinds of things in high school now finding herself enamoured, head-over-heels, and not caring for the criticisms of formerly cynical self.

[ OCTOBER ] A month later and she’s packed up and moved into his place, about as happy as she has ever been of late; everything in life falls into place with him, just makes sense.

[ NOVEMBER ] He gets エマ tattooed on his collarbone; her name in katakana. She gets 23, his lucky number.

They spend thanksgiving with her mom in Cupertino. Frankie hasn’t seen Emma this animated again in a long time, composes a poem about in her head as the green beans and pumpkin pie are passed around. Later of course, she pulls out the baby photos, much to Emma’s embarrassment and Tomo’s delight. “You were such a fat baby, Jesus,” Tomo laughs. “She looks like she ate baby Jesus,” her mother quips.

When her mom falls asleep, they sneak out and climb up Emma’s childhood treehouse armed with blankets. They gaze at a sliver of night sky through a gap in the roof as Emma tells him her childhood dreams of flying to space and inventing computers that could contact extraterrestrial life. They kiss, they make love, Emma ponders her stance on marriage being outdated and for chumps and losers next to a snoring Tomo.

[ FEBRUARY 2015 ] Their first Valentine’s day together they drop acid at Pier 39. An irate parent yells at them for making out on the merry-go-round in view of children; have they no shame.

She makes new friends, dozens, someone always at their place as Tomo plays them new tracks, smoke weed together, and watch the oil projector light show make shapes on the ceiling. They talk about the future, fame, and world domination.

They don’t discuss babies because neither of them care for that sort of shit — but they do talk about moving into a bigger place together, maybe getting a dog or two — the breed is subject of many arguments.

[ MARCH ] In peak puppy fever, Emma adopts a two year old rescue bulldog named Tito. It’s the first, tiny sign of a crack in their relationship, of dissent — she thinks she sees Tomo glare at the precious pup when he thinks she isn’t looking. But maybe she imagined it. He does shed and slobber uncontrollably after all, and her boyfriend happens to be a clean freak.

[ JULY ] That summer, Emma braves a plane once more to see Tomo play in Atlanta. His set is off the walls and for the first time, she is amazed to see just how many fans he has, how far this boyfriend of hers has come from making tracks in his living room. It’s just too bad she is fast asleep when he tiptoes out of their hotel room to meet one of said fans for a back-alley blowjob.

They roadtrip across the South to play some more venues and the pattern repeats itself in Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico. She wakes up in a cold sweat one night in Vegas, confused as to why he’s gone. “Out getting food. Got hungry.” The message hits her in a weird place, but she is tired, sleepy, and in a haze; Emma accepts, does not question. He even returns with some Taco Bell for her.

Timeskip — 3 years:

[ APRIL 2018 ]

Emma is on her hands and knees in a bathroom, vomit dripping off the toilet rim. She can’t remember how or why she got here, but she’s here. Everything seems to be swimming backwards. Eventually she is able to collect herself off the floor, splash water against her face and wall-to-wall stagger back out of the bathroom. It didn’t work, she’s purged the worst of it but still feeling funny. “Oh, Emma, there you are.” A man’s hands wrap around her. He says he’s friends with Tomo. Says he’ll take her to him. Fade to black.

Waking up with strange bruises should not become a norm, but it does. Emma dismisses it, goes to work, does her best.

Things with Tomo are a violent rollercoaster; some days are great, some days nondescript; and some days downright nightmarish. They fight, throw shit, break shit, yell at each other. Things almost border on the unacceptable as words turn into threats, threats turn to action. A hand around the throat; a body pinned to the wall — her body, of course. His weed grinder he threw that hit her in the head which he swore he’d meant to only toss at the wall. It never crosses a line into the unacceptable, though. That’s what Emma tells herself. He might push her down on the bed, sure, but a bed was soft. He might squeeze her throat in the heat of an argument, but never so much that she’s passing out. He doesn’t hit, kick, or punch her. That was what abusers did, not him.

She tells herself he can’t help it, his mother used to punish him and his father didn’t love him and now he lashes out the only way he knows how, on the only person he can. He didn’t grown up in as loving a home like she did. He had his reasons. It was okay. They were okay. And the makeup sex afterwards? The best ever.

[ MAY 2018 ] A month later and Emma is walking in on some girl riding Tomo’s dick like the world was ending, right there on their couch. On their goddamn couch they picked out together, hauled up the stairs with the delivery men. Somehow, the worst part about it all, Emma’s fucked up brain tells her, is that Tito is there to witness it. Her innocent, furry son, witnessing his ‘dad’ for all intents and purposes, cheating on his mom. A ridiculously thought but one she has nonetheless as she’s driving away, Tito next to her in the passenger seat. She goes to sleep at a friend’s and sobs the entire night.

Despite herself, she doesn’t break up with him; but the rift is a mile wide and constantly palpable. Tomo becomes relentlessly apologetic. Not only does he beg forgiveness, he does it live on-air at a radio station, on social media, Emma bombarded by strangers she doesn’t know writing her to take him back. Then he goes and uses her personal kryptonite pulls a Lloyd Dobler outside her work with a Cocorosie song she was absolutely weak for. She hates making a public scene but the sentimental part of her is melting at the gesture, the boombox, all of it. Emma stays. He’d been a shitbag, but he was her shitbag, with all his lovable and terrible qualities wrapped into one person, and she just had to take the shit with the good. Because there was no one else she’d rather be with, ripping side-stitches from too much laughter at four in the morning, tears in her eyes for a good reason this time, from one of his horrifying jokes.

He was hers and she was his, that’s just how it was to be. Well, as much as she could call him hers when he seemed to be everybody else’s in the process.

Emma does ridiculous, degrading, uncomfortable things in the name of love, and yet in the end she can’t hold on to the love she had for him in the beginning. Way back when they were going up on that ferris wheel at the pier and he looked at her like he had nothing but love in this world, for her. That was what hurt the most, because now the ferris wheel only went down.

There are threesomes, fivesomes, sixsomes, so many bodies in between hers and the one she loves, all in the name of exciting him, holding onto him, trying to be something for him that measured up to Enough. But none of it is enough. None of it makes him happy, nor did it make her happy. She gives him an inch and he takes a mile and then demands more, smiling with blood in his mouth. She breaks down and becomes something she doesn’t recognize in the mirror. Whether it was an act of revenge or desperation, or finally wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine, Emma sleeps with Corey, one of his best friends. She takes pictures, sends them to him “by accident”. She hates herself through it all, every moment of it, mostly for what he made her into. And yet, underneath all the layers of attempts at hurting him she was really just crawling on all fours, begging him to love her again, need her and want he the way he did in the beginning. Craving to get that first hit back, the one she had been on a residue high off of for four years, the one that now tasted metallic and rancid in her throat.

The worst part? Tomo doesn’t care. He texts her back, telling her to have fun, to send more pictures. She’s never felt this hollow, this empty, this non-entity of a being. The day of her high school graduation flashes in her mind, her dad telling her to never lose her identity, the core of what made her, her. Emma took that core and probably threw it into the Pacific. Somewher between Japan and California, it lies at the bottom of the ocean.

[ APRIL 2019 ]

Turns out, Emma could draw a line, and that line was becoming accessory to a drug deal. She knew Tomo sold on the side to make up for all the money going into the records, but it had always been a few pills here and there, nothing big. But this? Fentanyl, Xanax, bricks of coke and hash? It was a lot. It was too much.

He sells the drugs and her to go with it, and that’s the end right there. The package she delivers to the apartment he asks her to deliver it to turns into a hostage situation, and she leaves hours later, bruises and caked blood on her. She can’t go home, doesn’t want to. She wants to jump off the bridge she’s crossing from Oakland back to the city. Any bridge, any of them would do. She understands why people jump from the Golden Gate now, or maybe always had. She was there now, climbing the railings, she was ready. She wanted that plunge so badly, would be sad to leave one parent, but good to be reunited with the other. Maybe there she’d be happy, maybe there she’d find peace.

She calls Ben that night. She’s dry eyed and unemotional, but as soon as she gets the right words, verbalizes her situation, she’s sobbing again. Tomo is out of the city, across the country in Philly on tour. Now was the time, if there was any time for it. She’s not even done with the call when Ben is getting in his car to drive to her. It’s 6 hours from Ojai to San Francisco; he tells her he’ll be there in five. She never deserved a friend like him and never would, Emma thinks as she packs, hastily because somehow Tomo walking through the front door as a ‘surprise’ wouldn’t be out of the question. In the end, she can’t pack everything, has to leave so much behind, her records, books, knickknacks. Five years in this apartment and she’s leaving all of it behind, making a getaway in the middle of the night like some kind of burglar.

By three in the morning he’s here, and they get to packing her suitcases in the car, stacking them as best as they fit in his trunk and backseat, all of Tito’s things and then Tito on a bed in the seat in the back. Emma is in busy mode, stacking and packing everything as fast she can, still somewhere in the back of her mind thinking Tomo would appear at the last minute, and how with Ben here, things could get ugly. She doesn’t want them to get ugly. She loved him far too much to see him have to deal with Tomo, the only person in that specific firing line should be her and no one else.

They drive off. She only feels herself unclench an hour out of Daly City, somewhere in between the Bay and Southern California, where she can exhale. She’s still looking behind them constantly, wondering if every passing car could somehow be him. The saddest, most desperate part of all this that a part of her wants him to have followed. One last ditch attempt to get her back. An all out attempt, one where he would get on both knees and apologize, swear to never be this way again and follow through with it, because he was her person, he was her only person, there was nobody else in this world for her but him, but what do you do when you had to run from your person in the dead of night?

She pulls her raincoat tighter when they stop to get gas, a cold and windy middle of nowhere gas station. She’s not sure how she ends up embracing him, but they’re in it, and feeling someone’s arms around her, somebody that actually cares, who’d never hurt her, who was family, was her mom and his sister and everybody she loved rolled into one, feels like a reprieve. She feels like dirt for making him do this, making him worry, Emma was a piece of shit for that.

She says as much. He tells her to shut up, that she’s nothing like that and this was nothing that he wouldn’t have done for her on any night, any time at all. And maybe that, that was the night she fell in love with him a little bit, or realized she had always been, all along, but God likes to play Lucifer’s games with the little lives he watches over, and it wasn’t made to be, too late anyway since she’d left her heart in somebody else’s hands where it would stay. And he doesn’t need a mess like her anyway, just thinking of the name Catarina was enough. It had been five years but she still remembered the day like yesterday. How low he had been back then. How they would get high together and feel miserable together because at least they had that. They had Weetzie too, but she hadn’t experienced loss like they had, she sympathized but she’d never know what this particular slice of hell was like. But Ben and Emma knew. She knew it in that part of her ribs that met his, and she did not know what she would do if she didn’t have that, have Ben Abrams in her life.

[ MARCH 2021 ]

Fast forward two years, and the ex is in town. Here, in Los Angeles. That very ex you worked so hard to forget, to heal from, to act like he wasn’t there. And yet, reminders of him were constantly there, everywhere. She doesn’t tell her friends, doesn’t tell anybody he’s in town, just balks when his so called best friend turns up in her neighborhood. She nearly grabs Tito and runs the other way, but it had been too late for that and they have a forced, awkward catch-up. He’s oblivious to anything happening, had barely known about her and Tomo breaking up. Figures, Emma thought, that he would act like nothing happened at all.

He’s in town, and every day she goes to work dreading something happening. She thinks she sees him outside the tattoo parlor’s window, but it’s someone else entirely. She’s losing it again, losing sleep, falling prey to her nightmares. Has a boyfriend now but even that doesn’t help, if anything, he’s a guilty reminder of just how little progress she had made, because she couldn’t devote the time and attention somebody like that needed in her life. Not when all she could think about was him.

The worst part is that once he’s long gone again, back up north, she’s feeling that hollow feeling again. Feeling upset that he didn’t seek her out, didn’t come see her. Even though she knew what an unmitigated disaster that would’ve been, the horrible, rotten part of her wanted it. Of course it wanted it. Two years and her skin still itched for him like an addict longing to be in the throes of fullblown relapse. But he didn’t track her down, call, or text, and that was that. Her only run-in with him involves a party flyer papered on a wall, his name in big stylized letters as the headlining DJ at the club. She stares at that flyer for a little too long, it burns itself in her eye like she’d looked at the sun for too long. And then she does the worst thing she could probably do, go on instagram. Only to find he has a new girlfriend. A brunette with tattoos who looked fun and flirty and everything she had been all those years ago.

That was the last tip of the scale. She reactivates her Tinder, finds some half okay looking guy, makes plans to meet him that night. It’s terrifying, so terrifying going through with, but she gets sufficiently drunk, then high on top of that, and goes through with it. Thinking of another boy’s name the entire time, his face, his body, hands and all the rest. Twelve hours later she’s leaving his apartment, no longer the nun of two years she’d become and feeling shitty about that on top of everything else. It was probably time to go see Karen again she thinks, smoking a cigarette under the sun that melts her while waiting for her Uber home. Thanks friends, thanks family, I’ve made terrific process with all your help and am now back to square one. Thanks for everything.

Maybe in a decade’s time.

Maybe she’d be over it by then.

#billie eilish and her new album sponsored this para #literally billie wrote this song for emma i die #did i have his s.para tucked away for 2 whole years because i was too lazy to finish it? yup #emma #self para #self para: emma #npc: tomo slater

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vicecityhq · 3 years ago

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██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...

WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: autumn, forestpunk, cottagegore, darkest academia . With a slight resemblance to PAKORN THANASRIVANITCHAI of/the ACTOR.

CLICK BELOW TO VIEW ENTIRE FILE.

FULL FILE:

Last Name, First Name: Suwannarat, Briar Alias: Pan (codename for his job), Ari (more of a nickname than an alias) Realm of birth (if earth, nationality): Earth realm, Thailand Age: 29 Date of Birth: November 23rd Gender: Male Preferred Pronouns: He/Him Species: Children of the Twelve - Sagittarius Occupation: Police Detective Sexual Orientation: Homosexual

VISUAL FILE:

Skin Color: Tanned, burnt orange hue with a smattering of chocolate freckles along his face. He has the same freckles throughout his body, but has bigger white spots along his shoulders, the backs of his ears, and his outer hips. Eye color: Honey Brown Scars: None that have a significant story Piercings: None Tattoos: None Hair color: Dark chocolate brown Abnormalities: Fawn-like ears Horns/ wings/ etc: Small, stumpy antlers that stick just above his hair Transformed form: He does not have a transformation.

PERSONAL FILE:

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Agnostic, but was raised Buddhist SINS: greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Thai, Latin SECRETS: Teen romance can be rough, right? It’s like two colliding whirlwinds of emotions, hormones, and desires. One minute you’re together, the next you’re broken up for no reason. Now when that volatility is coupled with doubts about sexuality, it’s just a disaster waiting to happen. Most people didn’t accidentally melt half of their boyfriend’s face off and cause him to have to undergo grueling, expensive reconstructive surgery that would never quite make things right, though. Briar had told him the gloves had to stay on, but kids were reckless and foolishly believed in their own infallibility so it didn’t take much convincing to risk it all for some skin on skin. Then next thing they knew, Briar was babbling some half brained excuse about a science experiment gone wrong while his boyfriend’s blood curdling screams echoed in his ears. It was believably enough… until a month after - when the swelling from some of his injuries went down - his former lover was able to unintelligibly mutter “Briar did it.” Then suddenly an ‘accident’ turned into a full scale investigation of malicious intent. All Briar could do was tell the truth. He didn’t know which was more difficult - coming clean about his powers or coming out of the closet. But the officer sitting across from him and his distraught mother in the cramped interrogation room didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the confession. His bushy brows only furrowed in disappointment over the entire situation. In the end, Briar was only charged with obstruction of justice for initially lying to police, but the damage to his reputation was irreparable. His mother decided it would be best to relocate, which is how Briar came to finish his last years of high school in Agdoeg.

SAVVIES: hiking, gardening, camping, sightseeing, investigative work, problem solving, riddles and puzzles.

Powers & Abilities: Zodiac Empowerment (Sagittarius: enhanced accuracy, vision, tracking), Zodiac Physiology (see above appearance), Animal (deer) Spirit Summoning, Fthinóporokinesis (Autumn manipulation), Rot Inducement/Decaying Touch, Body Part Erosion, Luck, Evolution Manipulation, Supernatural Bowmanship.

Traits: (positive) Determined, intelligent, neat freak, health conscious, animal lover, usually down to earth, assertive, responsible, (negative) Sarcastic, impatient, untrusting, can have a temper when someone pushes him too far, distant, prioritizes work over everything else.

BACKGROUND CHECK:

Date of Birth: November 23rd

Date of Death: N/A

Crime Record: Most would assume someone has to have a clean slate to enter law enforcement, but that would leave slim pickings in a city like Agdoeg. Briar doesn’t have any outstanding criminal record, but he did have a couple of dings on his juvenile one that were expunged once he became a legal adult and, therefore, they can no longer be found in most databases.

Background/Biography

(tw miscarriage, tw immaculate conception by some strange god XD, tw domestic disputes, tw divorce)

Briar’s parents had been struggling to conceive a child for many years, since their prompt marriage right out of secondary school. These sweet hearts had longed to have a cookie cutter life and family, but fate seemed to inhibit that every step of the way. His mother have seven miscarriages due to the condition of an incompetent cervix and was told many times that she may never be able to carry a child to full term. This had been devastating news to the couple, who had no means of affording everything that went into surrogacy and were now facing the reality that they may never be able to have their own children. In spite of these odds, though, they kept trying and praying that whatever Gods that were out there might grant them a miracle.

Their prayers never seemed to be answered, though, and this put an understandable strain on their marriage. It was when his mother was thirty three and beginning to lose hope that she was plagued by a strange dream. She was floating in a vast emptiness, unable to move or even scream. This might have terrified someone else, but she somehow felt safe blanketed in the darkness. It was as if the entire universe lay bare before her, starlight dancing between her outstretched fingertips. Except she didn’t have fingers. She didn’t even have a physical body. There was a sense that she had become a part of something greater or perhaps been broken down into a form akin to what they had all been before the universe collided together in some cosmic firework show to create all that they knew. After what seemed like an eternity if time even passed in that world, the stars began to slowly take shape before her, pulled together by gravity or some other force she would never quite understand. As they converged, the light became so bright that it was nearly blinding, but she was space dust so how could she look away? She remembers trying to rationalize it with that absurd thought as the light shifted around her and the sound of harps and a heavenly chorus interrupted the sacred stillness that she’d been immersed in until then. Heralding the coming of something… or someone. The light came together at the peak of the crescendo, shapeless but she somehow got the sense of a shapely figure wrapped in a gown the longer she stared into it. This motherly figure bent over her and she recalled the warmth as its tendrils of light stroked over her cheek before urging her mouth open. In that moment, she didn’t feel any sense of unease as the being urged her to partake of its light. It traveled past her lips and through every corner of her being, rushing into her fingertips and even the ends of her hair. It was the first time since being in that plane that she had any sense of where she ended and the rest of the world began. The last thing she remembered was that light condensing, forming into its own little star in the lower part of her abdomen and radiating such soothing warmth…

Then she woke up and that was the first time she really had any sense of unease about the strange dream. As someone who had experienced how odd dreams could get during pregnancy, though, she took it as a good sign. Sure enough, when she took a test three weeks later, she was pregnant! Unlike prior, when she’d lost her children around the three month mark, this child was growing strong and without the complications she always worried about. Everything seemed to finally be falling into place. Their marriage and hope in the future was revitalized! And after nine months of perhaps the most physical and emotional pain she had ever been in in her entire life, she was welcoming a beautiful, healthy baby boy into the world and never once thought about the unsettling dream at the start of it all.

Admittedly, Briar was certainly a unique baby. His ears had always been a little odd since birth - bigger than usual - but his parents figured he would just grow into them and found it one of his most endearing traits. However, when he was three years old, that’s when his antlers started coming in. His mother found them one night when she was reading him a bedtime story and running her fingers through his unruly mop of wavy hair. Understandably, she freaked out and brought him to the doctor the next day, who took a biopsy and found the strange growths to primarily be made of calcium. It was unusual, but they decided to simply keep an eye on it since it seemed harmless enough. They only became more noticeable as the years went by, poking through his hair, and Briar recalls the Chinese Buddhists of his neighborhood always telling his mother it was a sign of good fortune. At the time, Briar had always thought it was annoying how they’d always want to lay their hands on him, but he realized as he’d gotten older that they believed the cow was Guanyin’s reincarnated father and the stubby little nubs atop his head made them think he was blessed. But horns and antlers are two different things - one being keratinous and, the other, bone - but he supposed it was easy to confuse them at first glance. Going into adolescence, those things grew like crazy. As if puberty and having velvety twigs growing on your head wasn’t stressful enough, that was when Briar first noticed his parents beginning to drift apart. One night, when coming home late from a friend’s house, he overheard a heated argument between them in the kitchen and his father’s accusations would forever be etched into his mind... “You thought you could trick me forever? I don’t know who knocked you up, but I can’t pretend that thing is my son!” The words drove through him like a knife. Yet after the initial shock subsided, Briar felt for the first time that all the little confusing pieces he’d chosen to overlook his entire life began to make sense. At first his parents had simply assumed he’d taken on more features of his mother, but his father had begun to grow distant as his otherworldly features and powers emerged. The reality was that two humans couldn’t possibly have made a half-deer-whatever-he-was and the only logical explanation was that he wasn’t his father’s at all. He only wished he’d come to that conclusion sooner instead of deluding himself and becoming foolishly attached to the man… The divorce was relatively swift. The judge didn’t even demand a paternity test when his father rebuked having to pay child support. All he had to do was look across the courtroom and he could tell that the speckled, big eared, horned child standing there wasn’t his. It was a dirty, unjust move that besmirched his mother as a disloyal wife and watching her go through that emotional rollercoaster was perhaps the toughest thing of the whole ordeal. Thirteen year old Briar comforted her through the fits of tears and had a strong upper lip when she insisted that she’d never betrayed his father… What bothered him the most was that he couldn’t believe her, but he also couldn’t be angry or blame her either. He had always been closer with his mother and he promised her in those moments of weakness that he would always take care of her. Of course, a single mother with a bad reputation was not an easy gig when trying to support a family. They were forced to move from their smaller town into the teeming metropolis of Bangkok for her to find work and Briar was honestly quite happy with leaving the past behind him. He thrived in the city with its far more diverse population. No one looked at him like he was a freak when he rode the bus or went to buy groceries. It was the first time he felt like he could truly be himself. He had his fair share of rough patches, just like any hormonal teenager, but having otherworldly powers and no one to teach you how to use them certainly caused a few catastrophic, social life obliterating faux pas. His mother thankfully was able to transfer within her company to the Agdoeg branch. It meant not only relocating in the middle of high school for Briar, but moving to an entirely new country. The level of diversity and integration of the supernatural community within Agdoeg was even better than what he’d experienced before. They were in government, owned small businesses… But not all of them were reputable or honest. Briar quickly learned that there were parts of the city that he shouldn’t venture to if he knew what was good for him. However, in spite of the seedier things going on in the underbelly, he was able to find a youth center which helped him to get a better handle on his powers and met his role model who would eventually lead him into his career as a police officer.

INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer

Briar squeezed his eyes shut tight in an attempt to chase away the spots dancing across his vision from the overbearing fluorescent bulbs that bore down on the table in the center of the interrogation room. It was so intense that he could hear the hum of the electricity going to it and, somehow, he mentally processed that before the weight of the officer’s words. Words he’d uttered himself many times when the roles were flipped. Normally, this was the point a smart suspect would clam up and demand to talk to a lawyer, but clearly this was some kind of joke and he’d just missed the punchline. “Ha. Ha! Very funny.” He gruffed, devoid of amusement as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose to ward off the pounding headache settling in like someone was playing the bass drum behind his eyeballs.

The precinct had all been out drinking the night before, celebrating closing a case that had been busting their proverbial balls for the last six months, and there was a point after countless shots of tequila that Briar didn’t even know what was up and what was down, let alone why they were even there anymore. Now, he didn’t doubt that many profoundly stupid things had fallen from his lips and been done, but he hardly would have thought it would be anything illegal. Officers protected their own and someone less inebriated surely would have stopped him before he did anything he’d regret. Trying to wrack his brain, Briar bent to press his forehead to the cool metal of the table with a pitious groan. He remembered waking up in one of the cells to the sound of the door noisily being opened and before he could even get his bearings, two uniformed men were hauling him up and dragging him down the hallway toward the room he sat in now. None of it made a lick of sense.

“I’m afraid this isn’t a joke, Officer Suwannarat. Something very serious happened tonight and we need you to tell us why.”

The brutally stern voice sobered Briar up really quick and he lifted his head up from the table to narrow his eyes on the man that sat across from him, his fawn-like ears flicking in annoyance. He’d worked on the force for many years now and he wasn’t about to be hassled by some nameless rookie who was probably forced in here by his supervising officer, like a lamb being pushed into a cage with a bear. “Listen- no. What is going on?” He demanded with surprising eloquence for someone who’s tongue felt like a dried up sponge in his mouth. Drunk drought be damned. “Am I under arrest? ‘Cause if I am, you better tell me the charges or else I’m walking right out that door and finding your commanding off-”

What was likely going to be a memorable tirade was cut short as the door to the interrogation room swung open and a handful of officers poured into the small space like salmon all fighting to spawn upstream. All Briar could do was stare wide eyed where he was glued to his seat and watch with no small amount of mortification while a cake was set in front of him with messy lettering iced on top that read ‘Congrats on your Promotion! Now you’re their problem.’ Feeling the mixture of rage and bewilderment quickly begin to ebb away, the corners of Briar’s lips twitched into a crooked smile and he shook his head in exasperation. “You’re fucking kidding me. Who’s terrible idea was this?” He demanded with a mirthless laugh as he deflated back into the hard metal chair and glanced around at the familiar faces of the men and women he’d worked with for the past ten years. God, how had he survived their crazy antics and made it this far?

“What do you mean? We had to give you a memorable send-off.” His partner mounted his defense and slunk out from the crowd to give Briar an encouraging clap on the shoulder. “Besides, do you know how hard it was to carry your heavy ass into the cell to pull this off? The least you could do was say thank you. Geez. Too good for us already, Detective?”

Briar should thank him. That much he’d already mentally concluded. But shoving his partner’s smug face into the cake was also a tempting option. Instead, he reached up to gently pat the other’s hand with his gloved one. “Never.” He assured him gently before a chorus of obnoxious coos from the peanut gallery made sure to not only kill the moment but beat it once it was down. Pushing himself up from the chair, Briar swayed unsteadily and shamelessly grappled a couple of his friends for balance on his route to the door. “Ugh. Alright, get me out of this room before I literally end someone and get stuck here forever. That cake better be chocolate, I swear-”

#vcaccepted #vccivilian

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