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anastasiapullingteeth · 6 months

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Calm. Down. Stay.

{Or The Things I Learned While Training My Reactive Dog}

My submission for this year’s @aggressivelyarospec’s Aggressively Arospectacular event! **Disclaimer: this is not a guide on how to train a reactive dog. It’s just me talking about my own experience.** [CW for mentions of COVID, anxiety, disordered eating and general bad mental health.]

It was August 2020, five months into the COVID lockdown, and I was losing my mind.

I’ve always been introverted. More interested in staying in my comfort zone (home) and indulging in my own activities (lazing around), so as bad as this may sound, lockdown wasn’t really the problem. The previous year and a half of commuting for two hours to get to work, plus years of suffering from insomnia, anxiety, and other debilitating problems were. By the time the pandemic happened, I was walking on a tightrope and the recovery was taking longer than I’d anticipated. That was when my mom, with zero thought put into it I may add, decided we needed a dog and got a month-old puppy.

I’m not one of those people who consider their pets as their actual children, but dogs are, in fact, pretty much like kids in at least one thing: not everyone is prepared to have them, and wanting one is not reason enough to get one. And, boy, I wasn’t prepared.

Given the bad state of mind I was in, the shitty job I had (and still have), and the historical event unfolding in real time, it was safe to say I was barely capable of taking care of myself, let alone a pet, but my mom promised the dog was going to be hers and, since I didn’t have the heart to rehome the puppy, we took her in and named her Quimey (“beautiful” in Mapuche).

I had plenty of dogs while growing up, but Quimey is my first dog as an adult and, although she was supposed to be my mom’s, I’m the one responsible for everything concerning her: I feed her, take her to the vet, walk her, clean after her, pay for everything... It’s a full-time job on top of everything else I already have on my plate but, even though my mom wants to help, she can’t really do much because Quimey has way too much energy and her strength and impulsivity can be dangerous if handled wrong, so I ended up taking up the responsibility myself. How hard could it be, right? It’s a dog. Then, of course, it became way harder.

Due to her chronic illness, my mom couldn’t leave the house during that time between the beginning of the pandemic and the first vaccines, so I was in charge of groceries and anything else she needed. Due to a lot of different factors (particularly that she’d been separated from her mother way too soon), Quimey wasn’t properly socialized when we got her, so, in an attempt to fix this, she often came with me to do errands.

She’s naturally nervous, so getting out of the house involved a lot of shaking, but nothing too bad to be considered a problem. The walks went okay and, after some time, she even stopped shaking, but then, one day as we waited our turn outside a store, she jumped on a random woman seemingly out of nowhere, scaring her. She didn’t actually bite her or even try to hurt her, but, from that moment on, I was a little wary of taking her with me in case she did it again so I tried to keep her at a safe distance from other people. It seemed to work and I thought we were back at a safe place, but I was wrong.

A couple of months later, Quimey was attacked by a neighbor's dog that’d been left outside without supervision. I managed to pick her up before the dog could do any damage, but, since we couldn’t really avoid him, he tried to attack her on several other occasions for at least a month or so, until the owners saw it and finally kept him inside. Sadly, that was enough to scare Quimey for life and the primary reason her reactivity began. She’s now terribly afraid of strangers and other dogs (particularly small ones) and is literally impossible to take her anywhere without her having what’s basically a panic attack. Trying to revert that as much as possible is what I’ve been aiming for for the past 3 years.

Living in a place that’s not pet friendly and without easy access to trainers and other specialists, having a reactive dog has been a journey, but one that, looking back, has taught me more than I’d expected.

Puppies are hard to train, they’re basically just babies, but anyone who’s had a dog before they turn one year old knows that’s nothing compared to the teenage stage. Yes, dogs go through adolescence, just like us, and it’s just as bad as you imagine. If by then you manage to teach them anything, they will forget it. They won’t listen no matter what you do and sometimes will even purposely disobey you. Avoiding shouting becomes a challenge and so far I was failing.

I’m not a person of soft emotions. I’m anxious, impatient, and temperamental, and my anger issues, although not as bad now, are very much something I still struggle with. Over the years, I’ve done my best to manage and redirect those emotions, but having a fearful reactive dog can certainly push you to the edge and test your patience because they’re harder to train and difficult to be with if you lack the knowledge to help them.

In dogs like Quimey, on top of the confusing teenage state, fear takes up their minds when they’re around a trigger and they basically lock themselves in a never-ending fight or flight response; in that scenario, they won’t listen to you not because they’re being disobedient, but because they can’t. Their bodies are fighting for survival and the last thing they need is having you screaming desperately because they’re pulling at the leash or barking, so, in order to get her to calm down, the first thing I had to learn was to be calm myself. What an impossible task! Years and years of trying had proved I couldn’t do it, but I needed to. I had to.

Dogs mirror our emotions; if I wanted to show her there was nothing to fear, I had to believe it first.

Dogs, as well as anyone else, are unique and what could work for one won’t do much for others. Each of them has its own process and sometimes it’s ok to just wait for things to pass and manage what you can until it gets better. As a teenager, Quimey was constantly trying to escape, barked at everything that moved, and got up in the middle of the night looking for things to play with or food to steal. It was the worst six months I experienced as a dog owner because all the progress we’d achieved until then was lost. Luckily, my sister, who’s had a similar experience with her own dog, helped me with some advice. Once I understood what was happening, I took a deep breath and established a routine.

As I said before, Quimey is high energy and needs help managing it in a way that’s safe and productive for her. So we implemented longer walks in a route that felt good for her, added scent games to stimulate her mind, practiced simple commands to control her impulsivity, and ran a few laps at night to burn all that pent-up energy that prevented her from having a full night's sleep. And it's working. Taking the time to assess the situation and try a solution is helping and something that was torturous at the beginning became bearable because I took my time. I was patient. The routine helps Quimey feel safer and more sure of herself because she no longer has to guess what is going to happen next; she is in the process of regaining control and lowering her guard, allowing her to enjoy what is around her instead of trying to run away from everything. And, what’s even more surprising, her routine is also helping me.

I’ve had trouble sleeping since I was a kid thanks to an overactive brain, and switching to full remote work due to the pandemic completely fucked any resemblance of a good sleep schedule I had so far, which wasn’t really impressive, to begin with. Routines had never done anything for me and, sometimes, having to keep a schedule for school or work even worsened my insomnia, which is the exact opposite of what one would expect. Having Quimey with me now, on the other hand, has improved my sleeping habits, not only allowing me to sleep most nights all night but also reducing the nightmares considerably.

Over the years I tried all kinds of tricks to sleep better and other things to lower my anxiety that never worked, but having a routine for Quimey did. What makes this one different? That I have a purpose. Getting better for oneself is what we all should aim for, but sometimes that’s not a good incentive when you don’t consider yourself worth it. Doing things for others can be a good first step towards healing and I already knew it’d worked for me in the past.

A few years ago, what took me out of a very long period of bad mental health was working with kids. Being surrounded by children whose parents neglected them in ways most people would dismiss pushed me to try to be the adult they needed and the one I didn’t have while growing up. I not only had to guide them academically, I also had to be able to be fully there to accompany them in their journey and that’s how I, almost accidentally, broke the streak of abnormal eating patterns and sleepless nights I'd been suffering from since I left college; adopting Quimey had more or less the same effect on me.

Somewhere along the way I figured she, just like me, struggles to understand the world around her and her fear comes from a place of feeling inadequate to handle it. She needs someone to give her the tools to work around her big emotions and translate the things she still hasn’t fully grasped in terms she’s more familiar with. And, much like with those kids, I had to step in and be the support she needed and the one I didn’t have. And I’m trying to do that every day.

Two years later, we still do most of the things we started her routine with, varying between the activities she gets tired of and adding stuff that fits her better as she ages. And we’re doing pretty well now.

I used to wonder what people did with reactive dogs before our generation got so obsessed with them that we started to treat them more like living things and not like objects, but then it occurred to me that, even if you think there’s more of them now because of the way the world has changed, most of the problematic dogs back in the day were abandoned or euthanized without giving them a chance or helping them overcome what had made them that way. Most of them still are even now. That, for better or worse, is part of why I keep trying with Quimey.

There’s something people with reactive dogs say constantly, but that’s worth repeating here: as much as a bad time you’re having trying to train your dog, you can be sure they’re having it way worse. Reactivity can be genetic or a result of past trauma, but whatever the cause is, your dog is struggling to adapt to this world and it’s your job to help them get there.

Quimey’s not perfect and never will be. She gets incredibly anxious if her routine changes, still won’t accept any stranger (human or dog) to get too close to her no matter how friendly, and is afraid of the simplest things like bubbles or the sound of a door closing in the distance. She sometimes has to take natural remedies to help her anxiety when her triggers are just too much to handle and we’re still working on teaching her how to stay alone in the house without a panic attack. But she’s also the most affectionate dog I have ever had.

Learning to accept and love her the way she is and my job as her advocate has strengthened our bond and has helped me accept and work on most of my own struggles as well. Identifying and naming her emotions in order to offer a safe space has created one for me, too, one I never knew how to get before, and that, without realizing, she guided me to.

Working on doing better for her helped me do better for myself as well.

Calm, down, stay… you’re safe now.

#AggressivelyArospectacular #essay #HI I'D FORGOTTEN TO POST THIS #lmfaoooo #aas*#aa*#long post #very long post

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

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The Pact - Date #7

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 7.2k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: a bit of talking down on yourself, the confusion continues, general fluff with a touch of angst

a/n: this is the final date. guys...how is this going by so fast?? please let me know your thoughts on the date, on everything else overall...and I’ll see you soon? Next Saturday is the finale!

Date #7

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

Note from the creator of this stupid idea:

I loved her first.

“Who do you think it was? Any ideas?”

“I…” you shrug. “No?”

Gina arches a brow, staring you down from across your kitchen table. “So, that was a lie.”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from your chest, Gina also chuckling. It’s a relief, the fact that she doesn’t hesitate to call you out. You’re grateful that you finagled her number from Jin, shooting him a text that looked a lot like this:

Me: Burn this after reading

Me: We can’t have any evidence !!

Kim Seokjinnie: ok, hi. I’m not burning my phone weirdo. I’ll just keep it away from Jungkook. What’s up??

Me: Hi. You know what I meant.

Me: Can you give me Gina’s number?

Kim Seokjinnie: Sure, I’ll send you the contact in a second. You two gonna hang out or something?

Me: Hopefully…do you think it’s weird if I just ask her out of the blue? Will she not wanna come?

Kim Seokjinnie: Nah, she’s pretty chill. I bet she’ll come

Kim Seokjinnie: *Kim Seokjinnie shared a contact with you*

Kim Seokjinnie: do you need anything before I burn my phone?

Me: no, thank you!! I owe you one. I’m short on friends rn, hopefully she’ll come over

Kim Seokjinnie: I’m sorry  miss you. We’ll all get to hang out once this is all over, I promise.

“Yah! I really don’t know. I mean they’ve all be so…”

“So what?”

You sigh, sounding like some kid in a dreamy teen movie. “Perfect?”

“There’s no such thing,” Gina huffs, leaning back in her chair. It’s a bit rickety, you’d found it at a yard sale with Namjoon and Jimin. You had just moved into your apartment, and realized that you were a little low on furniture. Together, you’d managed to find three mismatching chairs that made you grin each time you saw them.

It was a little odd at the time, you didn’t want to buy three chairs. Two seemed like plenty. They convinced you though, and looking back you understand why they were so adamant.

Wasn’t it rule #3? “Limit one-on-one interaction”? Three chairs made it so that there was always space for at least two of them.

Suddenly you look at the most average things in your house with different eyes.

Groaning, you rub your hands over your face. You’ve probably smudged your makeup, but you don’t care. It’s Friday night, you can do whatever you want.

“Unfortunately, I really think that there might be.” You let out a dry chuckle. “Seven dates with the world’s most perfect men. I knew I was screwed from the beginning, but this, I mean, I didn’t expect it to go this far.”

“On the bright side, you only have one more to go.” Gina gets up, stretching before moving to put her plate in the sink. She’d picked up some takeout on her way to your house, proving to you that you two are going to be friends for a long, long time.

“I’m terrified because of that. What happens after tomorrow’s date? I know it’s up to me, but I feel like I’m waiting for someone to come tell me the next step.”

Gina hums in agreement, shooting you an apologetic look. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pointed out how flirty they were at the haunted house. You never would have gotten into this mess.”

“No,” you wave her off. “It’s not your fault. Jungkook let it slip anyway, after the door closed on us in the basement. Ugh, I still get freaked out thinking about that. Has that happened since?”

Gina pauses over the sink, back turned to you as she runs her plate under the hot water. After a moment she shuts it off, turning around to wipe her hands off on a dish towel before leaning up against the counter.

“Erm…”

Your stomach drops. “What.”

“It’s just…” she crosses her arms and uncrosses them, unsure of what to do with her hands. “The door is connected to a little button on every employee’s key fob. You know, just for some extra scare factor.”

You meet her sheepish gaze with a blank stare. “So you’re telling me…”

“It’s just a part of the tour,” Gina shrugs. “Wait, what happened? He told you about the pact when the door closed? That’s…that’s honestly not the most romantic setting-”

“No no, we had a little moment after the door closed, and we almost kissed. But he stopped himself and said the I didn’t have to worry about him making a move. When we got out, I asked him why, and that’s when he mentioned the pact.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“So tomorrow is the last date, correct?”

“Yup.”

“Look,” Gina notices your worried expression. “Do yourself a favor. Let go. Don’t waste tomorrow thinking about what’s gonna happen next. Focus on the moment, ok? Then how about we get together next week sometime to talk everything over? If you feel like that might help, that is.”

You definitely made the right choice in inviting Gina over. You can already feel your stress levels going down.

“Ok.”

You’re up early the next morning, earlier than you’d like. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on your sofa, basking in the golden morning sun and watching the little dust motes float in the air, but it’s certainly been a while.

For once, it’s quiet in your mind. You’re not sure why now, why today. There’s no doubt you’ll be your typical bumbling mess once Yoongi picks you up, but for now all is peaceful.

It’s the last date. Somehow, despite how much you’ve enjoyed these little escapades, you feel relief at the thought. Knowing that you’ve made it nearly to the end without doing anything remarkably stupid (you’re still mortified that you and Jimin got kicked out of that basilica but oh well), and now you’re so close.

For now, you slide your worries under the rug, to be left there for the weekend. You curl your legs under you and lean your head back against the cushions to drink in the sunlight. It warms your skin, leaving you feeling even better than before.

Yoongi is supposed to be here around four. Jungkook had sent you a quick text earlier in the week checking that you didn’t have any plans for Saturday afternoon and night. You didn’t bother to tell him that you always had all day open for them.

While the exchange had been short, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was blushing just as much as you when his contact popped up on your screen. In an instant you were plunged into the memory of clinging to him just outside your front door, Jungkook’s shaky breaths the only thing keeping you planted in reality.

Either way, it was safe to say that you were a blushing mess despite the simplicity of the text. He kept it strictly professional, not once alluding to the events of last Saturday. But you could still hear those words he uttered when he asked if you ever thought about what might have happened if he’d kissed you in the haunted house when he had the chance.

“I do. Every day.”

Of course you thought about it. You let out an amused huff on the couch, laughing to yourself. Who wouldn’t? But the only thing was the fact that you were thinking about a lot of things. Not just Jungkook.

Or his lips, for that matter.

The couch rustles as you get up, deciding to change out of your red sweatshirt for a green one. You’d been instructed to dress warm, which made you wonder what was planned for today. Outside everything looks warm and pleasant, certainly no need for anything too heavy.

By the time afternoon rolls around, you’re tempted to call up Gina for a late lunch or something. To say you’re antsy is an understatement; you’re positively losing it. The clock on the wall has decided to try its hand at stopping time altogether, and you think it’s doing a pretty good job of it. Every time you glace over, seemingly no time has passed.

This time, you really start to wonder if no time has passed. You swear it’s been stuck at 3 o’clock for a while-

The sound of someone knocking on your door has you nearly tipping over from where you perch trying to grab the clock.

For some stupid reason, you’re frozen to your spot at the far end of your living room. Holding the clock in your hands, you jump a little as a second tentative knock sounds.

To your utter mortification, your mouth opens and you yell out, “Come in!”

You’re still frozen in place when the door opens and Yoongi pokes his head in. His eyes immediately land on you, a sheepish smile that he has a hard time containing immediately breaking out.

“You’re not planning on throwing that at me, right?” He asks, making you glare down at the clock you cling to.

“Oh.” Your knuckles have turned white, and somehow your heart has decided to try its hand at sprinting a marathon. “No. I- it’s broken. I think.”

Yoongi shuffles inside, closing the door gently behind him before wandering over to you. His pale complexion makes the pink on his cheeks easy to spot. Somehow the fact that he’s blushing makes you blush.

“Do you have batteries around here?” He asks quietly, hiding his amusement.

“Maybe in the kitchen?” You brush past him, handing off the clock. “Would you mind getting the old batteries out?”

He mumbles out a sure, plopping down on your sofa while he gets to work on the clock. He’s wearing a similar outfit to you, which makes you smile. It’s not very often these days that he sports a bandana and you wonder if he somehow knew that you love the way he looks in it. His hair looks particularly fluffy as it kisses his forehead, the dark bandana giving him an air of coolness you know you could never pull off.

Rummaging around your kitchen drawers, you pause when you realize what you’re doing. Are you stalling? What’s the rush to fix a clock when you have Min Yoongi in the other room waiting to take you out?

Closing the drawer, you take a deep breath and shake your head.

“Sorry Yoongi,” you call out, trudging back into the living room. “I’m an idiot.”

He looks at you over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s your reasoning?”

“Ouch.”

Yoongi chuckles, setting the clock down on the coffee table before getting to his feet. “Wow, is it just me or…”

You wince. “This got off to a bad start, huh.”

“Yeah.”

Looking at each other from across the room, you realize just how much you’ve missed him. His witty sarcastic remarks, his honesty.

Him.

“Can we start over? Go knock on the door again.”

Yoongi’s already on his way, huffing out a laugh as he steps outside. “Alright, see you in a second.” The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re suddenly left with the silence of your house.

As Yoongi timidly knocks on the door, the same sense of calm you experienced this morning settles over you.

The seventh date. No more guessing who’s on the other side of the door, no more anxious glances in the mirror to check that everything looks flawless. It’s just you, Yoongi, and the door between you.

There’s already a smile on your face as you open that door, finding Yoongi standing with his hands in his pocket. He returns your grin, feeling like a fellow conspirator in a heist that has yet to be planned.

“I’m here,” he announces, then adds with a chuckle, “finally.”

“Took you long enough,” you tease, reaching out to grab his jacket and pull him inside. He feigns a horrified expression at your flirty nature, but you just roll your eyes. You’re not sure who wraps their arms around the other first, but the next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in a tight embrace.

I missed you, is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat. The lump that’s formed there only grows thicker with emotion as Yoongi’s gravelly voice rumbles against your hair.

“How’re you holding up?”

Your arms fall around his waist, ever aware of his shoulder. Even though he says he’s completely healed now, you aren’t taking any chances. It’s quiet for a long moment as you struggle to find an answer.

“I…fine. I’m fine.” You pull away and arch an eyebrow at him, pleased to see that is cheeks are still rosy despite the serious look in his eye. “How are you holding up?”

He lets out a breathy laugh, dropping your gaze. “Fine.” Then, when he catches your disbelieving stare, he states as innocently as possible, “What? Aren’t we lying to each other tonight?”

“You suck.”

“See!” He exclaims as you step out of his grasp to grab your things. “You always do that when you’ve been caught in a lie!”

“Ugh, yah! I wasn’t lying,” you turn around to face him, walking backward toward your room. “I’m fine, really.”

He shrugs. “And so am I.”

You stifle your laughter as you enter your room, grabbing your things and wondering if you should grab a coat. “Do I really need a coat?” You call down the hall.

“Yes!”

Pursing your lips, you snatch the puffy monstrosity from your closet before turning to head out. Double checking that you have everything you need; your eyes can’t help but glance at the item sitting atop your dresser.

You stick your tongue out at it. A few seconds later it’s tucked safely away in your top drawer and you’re heading out into the hallway. Your stomach does an uneasy flip as you recall the words that are practically burned in the backs of your eyelids now.

I loved her first.

Yoongi gets up from off the couch, waiting for you beside the door. His dark eyes survey you as you walk toward him. “Good to go?” He asks quietly. Clutching your coat a little tighter to your chest, you nod.

The two of you head out, locking up your apartment and settling in the car that Yoongi drove over. Before long, you’re out on the highway, speeding toward your destination.

Which, you’ve just realized, is still a mystery to you.

“Sooo…” You begin, smiling lazily at Yoongi. You take a moment to admire his hands that are wrapped around the steering wheel. “Where are we going?”

A smile tugs at his lips, but he manages to contain it as he adopts a serious expression. He glances over at you. “We’re going to see the sea.”

“We’re…” you stutter, furrowing your brows. “We’re going to see the sea?”

A breathy chuckle escapes him. “Yeah. But it’s a long drive, so are you down to listen to a murder-mystery with me?”

“YES.”

You’re still pretty sure that it was the nosy maid that did it by the time you arrive at your destination. Two hours, one murder-mystery short audiobook, and several snacks later, the sun is well on its way to the horizon when Yoongi pulls off to a sandy parking lot filled to the brim with cars.

There’s tons of people mulling about, several of them appear to be young families who smile fondly as their children laugh and play in the sand. There’s a couple of food-trucks that have popped up on the beach, which sport long lines. Yoongi observes them woefully, seeming to come to some sort of understanding with himself before moving to get out of the car.

“Woah, what’s with all the people? Is this beach always this busy?”

It’s a beach you’ve never been to before, the pristine sand glowing as the sun makes its way across the sky.

“Today’s a special occasion,” Yoongi explains, popping the trunk and rummaging around. “We should probably pick out a spot now before all the good ones are taken.”

You come around to the back of the car to meet him, taking the blanket he extends out to you. Leaving your big coat in the backseat, you hope he doesn’t scold you and tell you to put it on. Right now it’s windy, but fairly warm. No need to look like a living marshmallow just yet.

Before you can inquire after what the special occasion is, Yoongi passes you a couple of water bottles and begins rattling off instructions.

“How about I jump in line to buy us some dinner,” the way he says it so casually has your heart skipping a beat for some reason, “and you head down the beach to scout out a decent spot?”

“But what kind of spot do you mean? Is there a show or something?”

Yoongi pauses, closing the trunk and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, something like that. A show. Just find a spot that you like, I’ll come find you with our food, ok?”

“Ay ay, captain.” You trudge away, hoisting the blanket up higher in your arms as you begin to look for an empty space. The immediate surrounding beach area appears to be pretty packed, which has you marching farther and farther away from the parking lot.

You grin as a couple of children race past you, giggling as they fly their kites. It’s looks like it’s a little boy and with his younger sister, trying their best to keep their kites afloat in wind. Waving at them, your smile only grows as the boy sheepishly turns away and the girl cheerfully waves back.

It feels like you walk for years before finding a clearing. You were definitely looking for a semi-secluded spot, not too keen on spending your long-awaited date with Yoongi surrounded by strangers. It doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone what the big deal is about today before you’re laying the blanket out. Not wanting to leave anything unattended just for it to blow away, you decide to just be patient until Yoongi finds you.

The sand is warm beneath the blanket as you plop down, resting with your face turned toward the sun as you let out a content sigh. Despite the chill of the wind, the sun warms you right up.

“Why are you alone?”

Peeking one eye open at the little voice, you’re delighted to see the same little girl from earlier standing a little ways away. She watches you with a meek expression, her kite forgotten at her feet.

“Oh, I’m not alone,” you explain. “I’m just waiting for my friend to come find me. He went to go get food.”

“Oh.” The young girl shuffles her feet. “My mommy says that I need to get all my wiggles out before the show.”

You chuckle. “Really? What show are we watching tonight? Is it Disney?” That would certainly make sense for all of the young families here tonight. Did Yoongi bring you to a beach-front outdoor movie?

“No, silly!” The girl giggles at your questions. “The sky’s coming to say hello!”

“What?”

“That’s what my mommy said. She said, ‘Young-mi get your wiggles out, the sky is coming to say hello soon!’”

You blink, a little amused by Young-mi’s earnest response. “I see…I didn’t know that the sky was coming to say hello tonight.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Oh,” you crane your neck toward the parking lot, but it’s too far away to see Yoongi. “My friend brought me, as a surprise.”

“Wow,” Young-mi utters in a reverent tone. “Can I meet your friend?”

“I don’t see why not.”

With a gleeful shout, Young-mi takes off running, her kite skipping along the ground behind her. She runs toward her family, her mother grinning at the sight before reaching out to pull her into her arms. You watch on with a forgotten smile, wondering for a split second what that would be like.

If you squint, that could be Yoongi sitting beside Young-mi’s mother, throwing his head back with laughter at something his daughter says to him. Their son crouches in the sand nearby, digging around as though searching for gold.

Laying down with a soft sigh, you close your eyes and let the little daydream take over. Here, at the beach. Telling your children that this is where you had your first date; laughing as they make disgusted faces when Yoongi plants a loud kiss on your cheek-

“Did the nosy maid get to you?”

Yoongi stands above you with arms laden with food. He blocks out the sun, the rays coming around to make him appear like an angel. Judging from the delicious smells radiating from the food he carries, you think he actually might be.

“Ah, so you agree that you think it was her that murdered Duke Rittington?” Your voice sounds a little croaky, a testament to the fact that you were just dozing a moment ago. Leaning up to ease some of the food from his arms, Yoongi snorts.

“No. It was obviously the son. Why can’t you see it?”

Rolling your eyes, you pat a spot next to you on the blankets. Yoongi takes the seat without hesitation. “Because, the son seems like too easy of a suspect. Whereas the maid-”

The screams of Young-mi as she rushes toward you cut you off. “You have a boyfriend?!”

“Oh, no.”

Yoongi leans over, still busy arranging the bags of food – is that a cheeseburger you see? – around the blanket. “Who’s that?” He mumbles.

“I, uh, made a friend while you were grabbing food,” you explain with a small smile.

Now Young-mi reaches your blanket, dropping to her knees as she gazes up at Yoongi with wide, innocent eyes. “Hi, my name is Young-mi and I’m four years old. I’m the second tallest in my class.” Young-mi prattles off information, her large eyes never once leaving Yoongi’s face. “Are you her boyfriend? I hope you’re her boyfriend.”

Yoongi lets out a startled laugh. “You do? Why’s that?”

“You’re so pretty.”

Now both of you burst out laughing, Young-mi looking utterly confused at your outburst. Yoongi covers his face with his hands, shaking his head.

“What? What’s so funny?” Young-mi questions.

You grin at her. “You think he’s pretty?” The little girl nods enthusiastically. “I do too.”

Yoongi peers over at you at this comment, an unasked question in his eyes. The pink in his cheeks has intensified, as has your own blush.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one complementing you?” He asks under his breath. You shrug.

“You brought food, so now we’re even.”

Young-mi lingers a little while longer, asking a few questions and drawing in the sand. Munching down on your cheeseburger, you eye Young-mi’s kite.

“Do you mind if I try to fly your kite for a second?” The question is out of your mouth before you can fully process it, but Young-mi looks up at you excitedly.

“Yes!!” She squeals, immediately dragging the little handle over to you. “You have to run really fast, that’s what my mommy told me. Then it’ll fly!”

Glancing back at Yoongi as you clamber to your feet, you don’t miss the fond smile he wears as he watches the interaction take place. You wave at him, heading off down the beach with Young-mi. Once you’ve walked far enough, you wink down at her.

“Ok, you run on ahead and I’ll catch up in a few seconds.”

The girl wastes no time running off, her laughter making you feel lighter than you have in weeks. Once she’s far enough off, you take off after her. She heads straight toward her family, who smile at you as you attempt to get the kite off the ground.

Sand flies up behind you as you race, and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi with his phone out, recording you with a wide smile on his face. The sun has hit the horizon now, a dizzying array of colors sending your mind into a joyful frenzy. Up ahead, Young-mi has successfully made it to her family and is waiting for you to catch up. She jumps up and down as the kite soars above you, the little pinwheels attached to it spinning around in the wind.

A bit more energy overtakes you, and you sprint the last few yards toward Young-mi, unable to stop the laugh that jumps out of you. You feel so free, here on the beach. It’s almost like you’re up there flying with the kite-

“Wait!”

Someone shouts it, you’re not exactly sure who, but by the time the plea registers in your ears, it’s too late. Foot catching in the hole that Young-mi’s brother had been digging earlier, you feel a twist of pain before tumbling to the ground.

You cry out, barely managing to catch yourself before faceplanting it. The handle from Young-mi’s kite digs painfully into your hand, but that’s the least of your problems at the moment.

Young-mi’s family rushes over to you, but before they reach you Yoongi is dropping to your side.

“Oh,” you pant, “hi Yoongs.”

“Are you alright?” He’s also panting, and you wonder if he had begun running after you before you even fell, foreseeing your path. “Your foot…”

“I am so sorry!” Young-mi’s mother stoops down on your other side, her husband right behind her. “We completely forgot that Doyun even dug that hole! Can you move? Are you in pain?”

From where you’re laying belly-down on the sand, you can’t help but feel the burn of embarrassment in your cheeks. “I…move? Yeah, I can – ah never mind.” You wince as you attempt to get to your feet only for the dull ache in your right foot to flare up to a fiery red pain. Yoongi immediately reaches out for you, unsure of what to do. His hands ghost over your leg, but retract when you hiss in pain.

“Here, my husband-” Young-mi’s mother points over her shoulder to the man in question. “He’s a nurse. Honey, could you…?”

“Do you mind if I take a look at your ankle?” The man asks in a gentle voice. “Just to make sure nothing’s broken.”

With a nod, you allow both him and Yoongi to help you swivel around to sit the correct way, the blush you already have deepening even more when Yoongi takes up a spot at your back. He gently pushes your shoulders back until you’re leaning into his chest, his arms coming to wrap around you in a protective manner.

When you wince as the man delicately presses down on your already swollen ankle, Yoongi begins talking.

“So, is it just me, or has this entire night been a disaster?”

You let out a choked laugh. “No, Yoongs. Well, maybe it has, but it’s all my fault. I can’t believe I fell, how embarrassing…”

“Oh, are you two out on a date? Er, sorry for prying…”

Both you and Yoongi awkwardly chuckle. “No, no…um, yeah. We are.”

“It’s our first date, actually,” Yoongi adds as an afterthought.

“How exciting! Honey, it’s their first date, did you hear that?”

The man currently inspecting your ankle spares the two of you a kindly glance. “Good for you two. You make a good looking couple.”

“But I swear I’ve seen you before,” the mother comments, squinting at Yoongi. “Where do I know you from…”

You can feel Yoongi tense up behind you, but he doesn’t say anything yet. Instead he takes to finding your hands (which you’ve slipped into your sweatshirt pocket to avoid accidentally punching the man poking and prodding at your foot), eventually curling his hands around yours and steadily unclenching your fists.

“Oh! I know it! Do you do commercials?”

Yoongi lets out an audible sigh of relief, which makes you smile for half a second before a particularly hard prod at your ankle sends you into a tailspin.

“Yeah, I’ve done a few commercials.”

“I knew it. How’s it looking, honey?”

Her husband sits back on his heels, giving you a nod. “Nothing appears to be broken, you just twisted it pretty good. Babe, grab that icepack out of the cooler. You should keep ice on it for a while to counter the swelling.”

A second later you’re handing a little bag of ice. “I don’t wanna take your ice,” you comment lamely. Yoongi chuckles in your ear, pulling back from you and standing.

“It’s just a disposable pack we used for the cooler,” the mother explains, waving off your concern. “No need to worry. We’ve got plenty more. Now, go enjoy your date!”

“Yeah, try your best to have fun. And keep ice on that, on and off for the next couple of days. It shouldn’t give you too much trouble after that.” With a wink toward Yoongi, your temporary nurse gives him a little nudge. “You seem like a good man. I think you’re in good hands here, miss.”

Young-mi bids you a mournful goodbye as you limp away with Yoongi, quickly coming to find that sand isn’t the kindest to people hopping around on one leg. You’ve made it all of four hops while clinging to Yoongi before he stops.

“Hop on my back,” he commands, stepping directly in front of you.

You blanch. “But Yoongi…your shoulder.”

“It’s fine. Just hop on. You don’t need to limp all the way back to where we’re sitting.” When you hesitate another moment, he looks back at you over his shoulder, his dark eyes sparking in the sunset. “Jagiya.”

Well, the man puts up a convincing argument.

Yoongi crouches down so you don’t have to jump, and with a bit of careful maneuvering you manage to hop onto his back. His hands grip your thighs, hoisting you up a bit higher which makes you gasp a little. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on shoulder.

Setting off toward your abandoned blanket and food, you can’t help but feel a rise of disappointment in your chest.

“Yoongi?” You mumble, almost sounding like an embarrassed child.

“Hmm?”

Hiding your face in the back of his neck, you groan. “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi’s steps falter before he continues on, confusion evident in his tone. “Sorry? For what?”

The calm that you felt earlier has completely shattered at this point, and you grit your teeth against the pain in your ankle and the onslaught of emotions that surface. What happened to picture perfect? Why couldn’t you focus?

Other than sitting in the car together, you feel as though you’ve hardly touched base with Yoongi. You haven’t seen the man in nearly two months, and yet here you are distracted as ever. Distracted with your dumb broke clock, distracted with the audiobook, distracted with a kite.

Yoongi stops in his tracks as he feels hot tears against his neck. “Jagiya?”

“I- I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you blubber. “I’m an idiot! I c-can’t focus on anything tonight and…and now I’ve made everything fall apart by going and getting h-hurt…Yoongi, it hurts so bad. A-and now I’m complaining, which is making everything worse!”

You’re surprised when Yoongi doesn’t say a single thing, instead picking up where he left off as he trudges on toward the blanket. In response to his silence, you continue in your repentant monologue.

“And you waited in line to get us fooood,” you bite down on your lip as you fight the urge to wail. “It’s probably c-cold now, and you waited for s-so long to get it…I feel like such a bad person…if you don’t wanna continue the date, I u-understand. I promise I won’t tell anyone if you want! J-just, I’m so sorry, Yoongi. I’ve completely ruined this, and you drove t-two hours to get me here….” You’ve reached the blanket now, Yoongi gently sets you down, and you hobble on one foot as you half-expect him to grab his keys and set off toward the car. “I just can’t think straight because I read that stupid pact and-”

“Woah, back up.”

Swiveling around to face you, Yoongi has a frown etched into his face. It makes you want to turn and run, to crawl into a cave to die from embarrassment, but it’s the fact that you can barely manage to stand on one foot at the moment – let alone run – that has you standing still.

“You read the pact?” You blink, hopping a little. When Yoongi sees your struggle he reaches out to you, steadying you. “Here, let’s sit.”

“W-we’re staying?”

Yoongi gazes down at you, the look in his eyes turning unspeakable soft. “Yes, jagiya. Unless you aren’t feeling up to it anymore?” He looks as though the thought of leaving now pains him, but he waits patiently for your answer.

“I wanna stay.”

“Good. Now, what’s this about you reading the pact?”

Having successfully turned into a sniffling mess, you wipe away your tears with an angry swipe. It’s time to come clean.

“I found a copy in Jin’s room-”

“What were you doing in Jin’s room?!” Yoongi whispers frantically, growing more concerned by the second. You wave him off.

“-and I took it! I knew I shouldn’t, but I just wanted to know, you know? So I stole it but that was stupid because then I saw that thing on the back…the little note.” Your words trail off, unable to even say the word lovewhen Yoongi’s looking at you like he’s unsure of whether he wants to laugh or cry.

“The little…note?”

“Yeah, you know…” You shake your head, moving on. “And since I saw that, I’ve been a mess. Like, an actual mess. I finally called Gina help just to get some help, I needed someone to talk to because you know, I can’t talk to you guys right now which is stupid. But I’m still so lost and I screwed everything up and my ankle hurts Min Yoongi!”

You’ve stunned yourself into silence with your outburst, Yoongi across from you looks a bit lost himself as he sits back on his heels. It’s clear the moment he comes to a realization.

“The note.”

It’s all you can do to breathe normally and not burst out into tears again. Yoongi’s expression turns mournful when he sees you.

“Oh, jagiya…” leaning forward, Yoongi somehow manages to pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arms around you and tucking your head close to his chest, Yoongi pulls you in as close as he can. He sways gently back and forth, a hand coming up to cup your cheek to make you look at him.

You do so begrudgingly, feeling like nothing more than a large child. However, the moment you meet his eyes, it hits you like a lightning strike.

“Do you remember,” he begins quietly, “that time when your final paper accidentally got deleted? All you had left to do on it was add the reference page. You were distraught, remember?”

Of course you do. It’s the stuff of nightmares. Countless hours spent laboring over a final essay for a class you loathed, only to make a stupid mistake and delete it all. All of it, all nineteen pages were gone in a blink. Your hard work along with it.

“I remember you called me, a sobbing mess. Obviously I thought you’d hurt yourself, the way you were crying about killed me.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, leaving you completely enraptured in his spell as he continues speaking. “I fought with Namjoon because I needed to go see you, but we had a schedule. It was an interview, I don’t even remember for what or with whom, but I was so angry. I seriously thought I was gonna punch him. Then I remembered he goes to the gym a lot more than me, so I didn’t.”

He manages to make you crack a small grin at that. The sight spurs him on. “But I’ll never forget the sight I saw when I finally made it out to your house later that night. It was like what, two in the morning? No one knew I was even going over, which obviously I did on purpose. I didn’t want to get into another argument. When I walked in your apartment, you were sat at the kitchen table. Remember?”

The memory is vague, tinged with exhaustion and disappointment, but it’s there. You’d set up camp at your kitchen table all day, missing all other appointments just to try to rewrite your paper. You were half delirious at that point, staring at the screen seemed equal to burning at the stake.

“I’ve never seen you look more exhausted in my entire life,” Yoongi chuckles. “I remember I was ready to write the paper for you, I was so sad for you. But when I made it over there, I was floored to see that you’d already written it. Not only that, but you’d written twenty-seven pages. Twenty-seven! Who does that?!” He shakes his head at you, looking absolutely shocked.

“When I asked you why you would do that, you just shrugged and said, ‘why not reach for the stars?’ Then you submitted it, stood up, walked over to me and gave me a hug before going straight to bed. I was so shocked that I just stood there for ages, trying to fathom what had just happened.”

Yoongi sighs, glancing up at the night sky. You admire his jawline from this angle, nuzzling in a little closer to him for warmth. He notices that you didn’t bring your coat out with you, giving you a playful glare before gently rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

“Why did you tell me that?”

You can feel his shrug. “You are more capable, more special than you will ever know. I’ve always kept that in my heart, over the years. Why not reach for the stars? Jagiya…”

Yoongi shuffles a little bit before cupping your chin and pointing toward the horizon where the sun has slipped down. The night sky is becoming more visible by the second, a few stray stars winking down at you.

“Look.” He points at a certain spot in the sky just in time for you to see a streak of breathtaking light.

A falling star.

In the span of a few minutes, you’re completely speechless as the sky continues to darken and your eyes are glued heavenward. Gradually, more and more falling stars dart across the sky, taking your breath away. As they continue, you recall Young-mi’s words. The sky is coming to say hello.

Yoongi reaches for your hand, easily enveloping it while tracing the outline of your knuckles.

“You,” Yoongi breathes out, sending tingles down your spine. “Are the stars I’ve been reaching for ever since that night.”

Heart thundering against your ribs, you turn to look at him only to find his eyes also trained on the heavens. He speaks the words softly, almost to himself, but you still catch them.

“You’re a star, all the way up there…and I’m all the way down here. Maybe all I’m meant to do is admire you from afar. But for tonight, just for a moment, I’ll hold you.” His eyes slide down to meet yours, glinting with pure starlight. Cold and beautiful. Hurtling toward you, burning up in your atmosphere and leaving you wondering what would happen if you let him in.

If it would lead to utter destruction or the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

All words have escaped you at this moment in time, but you don’t feel the need to scramble for some sort of a response. Instead you settle for snuggling in a bit closer, allowing Yoongi to hold you a bit tighter.

Tonight, he’ll hold you close to his chest while what will later be recorded as the most prominent meteor shower in recent history rains down above you. The dark night sky is set aflame with streaks of silver as falling stars graze the earth, sharing a sweet goodnight kiss as they hurtle through space. You marvel at the seemingly never-ending parade the night sky puts on, relishing the way Yoongi keeps your warm as he also marvels at the wonder above you.

There’s no words that are exchanged for the entirety of the meteor shower, the only form of communication found in the patterns Yoongi traces out against the back of your hand and the way he gazes down at you from time to time. As though making sure you’re really there.

It’s a long while before the meteor shower begins to fade, and it’s only when you hear Yoongi softly calling your name that you realized you’ve dozed off.

“It’s over, jagiya,” he coos, brushing hair away from your eyes. “Let’s get you to the car, then you can sleep the rest of the way home.”

Somehow you two manage to make it to the car, you yourself being much more coherent by then due to the sharp pains in your ankle. You realize that you two are some of the few people left at the beach, making you wonder when everyone else left.

Your eyes are half-closed when Yoongi begins to drive away, your hand finding his atop the console.

“You know you don’t need to worry about us, right?” Yoongi mumbles out, glancing over at you with a worried expression. “We’ll support whatever you decide to do. Remember what I said before? You’re the most capable person I know. You don’t need us, not really. Just…be happy.”

You mumble out something incoherent, not completely realizing that he’s referring to the aftermath of the pact until you’re already asleep.

The next thing you know, you’re parked in front of your apartment and Yoongi is grinning down at you from the passenger side door.

“C’mon,” he urges, helping you out of the car. “Careful with the ankle.”

“Mmm.”

It takes a bit of careful maneuvering to get up the stairs to your apartment, but you manage to make it. Leaning up against the door, you fumble for your keys.

Once you’ve found them, you hand them straight over to Yoongi. You’re far too tired to attempt unlocking your door at the moment. He laughs at your behavior, shooting you a proud gummy smile when he unlocks the door. You don’t even have to ask before he’s assisting you inside, helping you hobble to your room before turning to leave.

“Thank you, Yoongi. For everything.”

Yoongi smiles down at his shoes. “We’ll swing by tomorrow to check up on you if that’s ok?”

We.

Your stomach flips to remember that you’re over now with these dates. Now what-

“Or just shoot me a text? I know that might be awkward if we all show up…”

“Thank you. I’ll text you?” You sigh, running your hands over your face. “Yoongi, I…” You trail off, staring up at him from your bed as your mind and heart races. There’s just no words.

With a soft smile, he leans down and pecks your nose. The innocent gesture has your ears turning red, which widens his grin.

“I know.” He whispers back.

And then he’s gone.

And you’re left here, suddenly colder than ever.

main masterlist

the dates are DONE. please let me know your thoughts, I love hearing from you! Tomorrow I'll be opening up a poll for your top two dates, so stay tuned for that!

alsooo stay tuned this week because I may have a lil bonus chapter for you guys

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld @kayahay @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @hqtetsurou @protontippens @beginwithamin @delacyrose224 @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @bluehairedotakugem @hunnibxbe @kayahay @fanfictionreader05 @seokjinmoonfics @littletinyhobi @honeyhalcyon @yoontaethings @herrmionejgranger @beepbeep11 @extraordinary_reads @vntwishlist @aussiebeachbabes @hitsussi @hannah2291 @alwaysasadaesthetic

#bts x reader #bts fluff #bts dating au #Yoongi x reader #bts ot7 x reader #bts friends to lovers au #yoongi friends to lovers au #bts as your best friends #bts imagines #bts fanfic #suga x y/n #yoongi x y/n #armywriterssupport

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kingstylesdaily · 4 years

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Harry Styles — ‘It’s about bringing more music to Manchester’

The One Direction band member and solo star on launching into his first substantial business venture.

But the star hasn’t joined me on a Zoom call to discuss traumatic haircuts. Instead, we’re discussing what’s being billed as his first venture into the world of business. Styles is the public face of a new arena to be built in Manchester, which will be one of the largest indoor venues in the UK when it opens in 2023.

It’s being built by the US entertainment company Oak View Group at a projected cost of £350m. The capacity will be 23,500. Following a link-up with the Manchester-based business The Co-operative Group, it will be called Co-op Live.

“It feels like full circle for me to be doing this,” Styles says, speaking in what looks like the stainless steel confines of his LA film trailer. He grew up near Manchester, in a village in the neighbouring county Cheshire. “My first job was with the Co-op, it was delivering papers for them,” he recalls.

Manchester was where he went to gigs with friends. It was also where he auditioned for the television talent show The X Factor in 2010 when he was 16, singing an unaccompanied version of Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely”. It led to him joining the boy band One Direction. Transcending their talent show origins (they came third on The X Factor), Styles and his bandmates became a global phenomenon. They were the first band in US chart history to have their first four albums debut at number one, outdoing even The Beatles. With his newly shorn hair, a green jacket with big stitching, a T-shirt with blue palm trees and a cross dangling from his neck, Styles manages even on a visually unflattering Zoom call to look the part of the teen heart-throb. But, whereas other boy band singers have struggled to establish themselves as individual acts, Styles has made a handsome success of it. He launched a solo career in 2016 and has released two accomplished hit albums. In 2017, he made his acting debut in Christopher Nolan’s war film Dunkirk. He’s currently shooting Olivia Wilde’s horror-thriller, Don’t Worry Darling.

Diversification from the evanescent world of teen-pop continues with his involvement in the Co-op Live arena. It links him with two big names in the US entertainment industry. Tim Leiweke, former CEO of the concert promoter AEG, and Irving Azoff, former CEO of Ticketmaster, run Oak View Group, the company building the arena. Azoff’s son Jeffrey Azoff is Styles’s manager. “This is a big project and it would be a lot scarier if I was with people I didn’t know,” the singer says.

He has a financial stake in it as an investor. “I didn’t get into music because I wanted to be a businessman,” he says. “I got into music because I love music. That’s always going to be a first for me. But when an opportunity like this comes up, for me it feels so much about what I can bring to it as a musician, and also as a fan.”

Construction of the arena is due to begin in November. Styles has a vaguely defined role as an adviser in its design and decor. “Obviously I’m not an expert architecturally, in terms of building an arena,” he says. “I guess the weight of my involvement falls into the idea of what you want backstage as an artist. People operate in different ways after a show. Some people like a quiet space, some people like a place where you can invite all your friends.”

Arenas have a reputation as soulless venues, the kind of interchangeable setting where a forgetful star can get the name of the city wrong (as happened to Bruce Springsteen in 2016 when he cried, “Party noises, Pittsburgh!” during a show in Cleveland).

Even at the tender age of 26, Styles is a veteran of these cavernous spaces, which he refers to as “rooms”.

As an artist, it’s rare to find that if you’re touring for months at a time, to go in these big rooms and feel that comfortable.” Manchester’s new arena is being designed to maximise sightlines between performer and audience. “That’s usually the first thing that you miss when you go into big rooms,” he says. “There’s a point when you’re doing shows and you can see the whites of people’s eyes and you can have that connection with people. It’s easy to lose that if you can’t see people’s faces.”

The first time he sang in public was in the canteen of his Cheshire school, for a music competition. He recalls the feeling of exhilaration: “You’re so used to sitting in the classroom and looking up at your teachers. All of a sudden everyone’s down there and the teachers are looking up at you.” He gets the same sensation when performing for tens of thousands of people. “It’s obviously on a different scale but that feeling is very much the same,” he says. “I think it’s the same chemical. It’s just like such an unnatural thing. It’s kind of like — this isn’t supposed to be like this, this isn’t how life works. That kind of adrenalin I think is just something that you wish you could share with people that you know. It’s a beautiful thing, it’s a really special moment.”

The coronavirus pandemic poses an existential threat to venues. “It’s such a strange time to be talking about live music, because right now it just doesn’t exist,” Styles says. He insists that the Co-op Live is designed to enhance Manchester’s live infrastructure, not overwhelm it. (The city already has one of the UK’s largest indoor venues, the AO Arena.)

After its projected completion in 2023, Co-op Live will be able to welcome its celebrity investor on stage (“If they’ll have me. I’ll have to speak to someone and ask about that”). In the meanwhile, Styles is due to embark on a world tour next February, although the pandemic has cast it in doubt.

“It’s one of those things of just seeing how things go,” he says. “I don’t think anyone wants to be putting on a tour before it’s safe to do so. There will be a time we dance again, but until then I think it’s about protecting each other and doing everything we can to be safe. And then when it’s ready and people want to, we shall play music.”

via the Financial Times

#kingstylesdaily #Harry Styles #hs: financial times #hs: article #October 2020

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stylesnews · 4 years

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Harry Styles — ‘It’s about bringing more music to Manchester’The One Direction band member and solo star on launching into his first substantial business venture

Two weeks ago, the stark phrase “HE CUT HIS HAIR” began trending on social media. I can confirm its truth: the One Direction member turned solo star Harry Styles has indeed cut his hair. The usual curly tresses are gone, scissored into a tousled, swept-back look. It’s for a film role he’s currently shooting in Los Angeles. But the star hasn’t joined me on a Zoom call to discuss traumatic haircuts. Instead, we’re discussing what’s being billed as his first venture into the world of business.

Styles is the public face of a new arena to be built in Manchester, which will be one of the largest indoor venues in the UK when it opens in 2023. It’s being built by the US entertainment company Oak View Group at a projected cost of £350m. The capacity will be 23,500. Following a link-up with the Manchester-based business The Co-operative Group, it will be called Co-op Live.

With his newly shorn hair, a green jacket with big stitching, a T-shirt with blue palm trees and a cross dangling from his neck, Styles manages even on a visually unflattering Zoom call to look the part of the teen heart-throb. He launched a solo career in 2016 and has released two accomplished hit albums. In 2017, he made his acting debut in Christopher Nolan’s war film Dunkirk. He’s currently shooting Olivia Wilde’s horror-thriller, Don’t Worry Darling.

Even at the tender age of 26, Styles is a veteran of these cavernous spaces, which he refers to as “rooms”.

“There’s a lot of cold rooms that you can play in,” he says. “You definitely remember being in the ones that sound better, the ones in which you can create some sort of feeling of being at home. As an artist, it’s rare to find that if you’re touring for months at a time, to go in these big rooms and feel that comfortable.”

Manchester’s new arena is being designed to maximise sightlines between performer and audience. “That’s usually the first thing that you miss when you go into big rooms,” he says. “There’s a point when you’re doing shows and you can see the whites of people’s eyes and you can have that connection with people. It’s easy to lose that if you can’t see people’s faces.”

He gets the same sensation when performing for tens of thousands of people. “It’s obviously on a different scale but that feeling is very much the same,” he says. “I think it’s the same chemical. It’s just like such an unnatural thing. It’s kind of like — this isn’t supposed to be like this, this isn’t how life works. That kind of adrenalin I think is just something that you wish you could share with people that you know. It’s a beautiful thing, it’s a really special moment.”

“The purpose is not in any way to try to monopolise the city in terms of music,” he says. “It’s about bringing more music to Manchester, wanting to bring more artists there, to use this building as a reminder of why it’s such a great music city, not trying to wipe out other venues.” After its projected completion in 2023, Co-op Live will be able to welcome its celebrity investor on stage (“If they’ll have me. I’ll have to speak to someone and ask about that”). In the meanwhile, Styles is due to embark on a world tour next February, although the pandemic has cast it in doubt.

#harry styles #oct20 #article #ft #cooplive

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xomarauders · 3 years

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posted this on ao3 awhile back and had a hard time getting tumblr to upload it, but it finally worked so here you go

content warning for referenced child abuse

The warmth of summer filtered through the window, casting rays of sunshine across the floor of James Potter’s bedroom carpet where Remus was splayed out, tracing patterns into the ridiculously soft material. He was sure that James charmed it to keep it so fluffy, otherwise it would not have survived the footfalls of four, rowdy boys that found refuge here during the summer. It used to be only the three of them—James, Remus, and Peter, that is—until Sirius was able to join permanently halfway through the summer season. His parents had never allowed for him to visit the Potter’s while he was still living under their roof, but now that the raven-haired boy had run away and was officially disowned, well, Remus was sure the carpet would have wilted under Padfoot’s grubby paws by now.

Either way, Remus was sure that there was nothing better than laying on James’ charmed carpet with his three best friends, listening to music from the record player—that had also been charmed to work without electricity—and chatting about whatever came to their minds. They were all sat on the floor aside from Sirius, who was perched in the window, smoking, and watching as the birds flew around outside. Remus smirked—the boy really was such a dog.

“It’s our last years at Hogwarts, boys,” James announced as he pushed his glasses further up his nose, “what are we going to do once it’s all over?”

It was a question that held a lot of weight, depending on how you looked at it. What were they going to do as far as it came to pranks and leaving their legacy at Hogwarts or what were they going to do as soon as they graduated. Maybe get jobs, possibly go to university, more likely join the Order to fight a war they didn’t start. Remus didn’t care to think about any of these things. His future had been something he considered to be doomed since he was four years old and suddenly had to share his mind with a beast that tore apart his body every month. He had never even planned on having the life he had gotten—the chance to go to Hogwarts, to make friends…to fall in love.

He cast glance toward Sirius, whose own gray eyes were already looking to Remus, a thoughtful expression on his face. Remus grinned at him, tilting his head so that his curls fell into his eyes. Sirius smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He’d been smiling like that a lot, lately. Remus made a mental note to ask him about it later that night.

“I don’t know about you lot, but I have no idea what I’m going to do without all of you around,” Peter said.

“Don’t worry, mate,” James said, patting Peter on the shoulder, “you can’t get rid of us that easy! Marauders till the end, right?”

There was a certain admiration that Remus held for James Potter, the savior of the cursed and the damned. He had banded them all together; the timid boy, the broken werewolf, and the wayward heir to make a family. Remus would never be able to repay James for the unconditional love he’d shown him, but he was willing to try everyday for the rest of his life.

“Marauders till the end,’ Sirius repeated, extracting himself from the window as he put out his cigarette. He joined them on the floor, laying down next to Remus and pressing himself tightly against the other boy. Remus wrapped his arm around Sirius, partially out of habit and partially because it was what Sirius needed, something he was starved of. Touch had been something of a guessing game between the two of them ever since they started their relationship. Neither of them were quite used to being touched in such casual ways until they became friends with James—who was constantly giving out hugs like they were candy—and starting a relationship had made the concept even more confusing. Not only did they have to think about what sort of casual touching was okay for each of them, but now they had to factor in intimate contact. Kissing was okay, just as long as they were alone in the safety of Remus’ four poster bed or hidden in one of the various alcoves they had discovered while creating the Marauders Map. Remus thought it might even be okay here, in James’ bedroom, to sweetly kiss his boyfriend without fear of judgment or ridicule. Still, he let Sirius make those decisions, allowed him to initiate any sort of contact between them because while Remus’ aversion to touch stemmed from not being able to trust himself, Sirius’ came from not being able to trust others. He was easily spooked by any sort of sudden movement that came his way, a side effect of Walburga Black’s outstanding parenting skills, and no amount of James’ casual hugs or Remus’ gentle caresses have seemed to break him of this habit.

“What are you thinking about, Moons?” Sirius whispered. James and Peter were too busy arguing over which record to play next to notice their other two friends.

“You,” Remus said easily. Sirius blushed—an image Remus would never tire of seeing—and reached up with his slender fingers to brush away the curls that had fallen in Remus’ eyes.

“Me,” Sirius said, a hint of astonishment in his voice.

Remus wished Sirius wouldn’t sound so surprised at the idea of someone thinking of him. It hurt to know that Sirius did not quite value himself the same way Remus, James and Peter did and it was times like these where Remus wanted to meet Walburga and Orion Black in person just so he could give them a piece of his mind.

“Lads,” James said, throwing himself on top of them unceremoniously, “let’s head on downstairs. I think mum’s made dinner.”

The four of them trailed down the stairs, Sirius holding Remus’ hand while James raced ahead to slide down the railing. Fleamont was in the parlor, reading the newspaper and looking up as the boys made their presence known. He greeted them all, and asked James in a calm tone to perhaps not ride the staircase like a broomstick. James at least had the decency to turn red before assuring his dad it would never happen again (everyone knew it would). Euphemia was in the kitchen, apron tied around her waist and her gray hair up in a knot on her head. Sirius leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, and she gently reached out to him, not quite taking his face in her hands until she saw the smallest nod of permission.

“My darling,” she said, her eyes welling up with tears, “you look well.”

Remus knew what Euphemia was thinking about as she took in Sirius’ appearance. It was the same thing he had thought of over and over again as he laid in bed at night, his arms wrapped tightly around his boyfriend in attempt to keep him safe from the nightmares that occupied his mind. The frail and beaten Sirius that had collapsed on the Potter’s doorstep those few weeks ago had been nursed back to health by the healing powers and carefulness of Euphemia Potter. Still, it was hard to get that image of Sirius lying half dead out of Remus’ mind. He could hardly imagine what it was like for Euphemia who had seen the worst of his injuries after shoving everyone else out of the room in order to heal him. James, Remus, and Peter had stayed up all night, waiting outside the spare bedroom door where they could hear Euphemia sobbing over Sirius’ sleeping form. Remus would rather have faced the full moon a hundred times instead of waiting those long three days for Sirius to wake up.

“Thanks, mum,” Sirius said. The four boys crowded around the kitchen table, eagerly reaching toward the various dishes Euphemia had spread about. Fleamont had joined them, sitting between his wife and Sirius. James immediately went for his mother’s main dish, filling his plate full before passing it to Peter, who was already nibbling on some naan. Remus loved Euphemia’s cooking. It was different than that of his mother’s—not that he would ever pass up his mam’s wonderful Sunday dinners—and he was happy to able to enjoy the different flavors offered whenever he visited. Euphemia always made far too much, making sure that everyone got their fill as well as some leftovers. She was an angel, truly.

Sirius did not fill his plate as full as the others. He was still very thin, with his jaw looking more pronounced and Remus knew his hipbones were a bit more jutted out. Punishments at Grimmauld Place were harsh and Sirius had been starved well into the first few months of summer. It was still a process, trying to get him to eat without getting sick, but they were managing best they could. Remus watched as Sirius poked at his food, looking a bit scared of it before setting his fork down and letting out a frustrated sigh. James looked up from his own plate, regarding Sirius with a look of concern from across the table.

“You okay there, Padfoot?” He asked, keeping his tone light but Remus could see the worry in his dark eyes. Sirius nodded, picking up his utensils once more.

“Yeah. I’m fine, just…” He trailed off, looking down at the table and not daring to meet anyone’s eye. Remus felt a sudden need to shield Sirius away from everyone else’s intense gaze, the wolf within him becoming quite territorial. He pushed those feeling away, not permitting the wolf access to its most basic instincts in the fear that the wolf might be visible on the surface. Still, even his human mind seemed to want to take Sirius away from the scrutiny.

“Darling,” Euphemia said, “you don’t have to eat it all. Just a few bites of naan if you can bear it. Just to keep up your strength.”

Sirius smiled tightly at her but did not move to eat. The rest of them reluctantly picked at their own food, trying to keep things as normal as possible. Fleamont engaged his son in conversation about Quidditch, asking after the Gryffindor team and what he thought their chances were this upcoming school year. Peter politely asked after the herbs Euphemia was growing in her kitchen—he had a thing for herbology—and she answered each question with detail. Remus turned his attention to Sirius, his hand coming to rest on the older boy’s knee. Sirius flinched slightly and then blinked as he realized it was only Remus.

“Do you want to go on a walk?” Remus asked quietly, rubbing circles with his thumb into Sirius’ thigh. The other boy nodded, standing quickly, and exiting the kitchen. The conversations happening came to an abrupt halt and Remus could feel James’ gaze turn towards him. He looked to his friend, a silent conversation passing between them.

Is he okay?

No, but he will be.

Remus walked out, trailing through the living room and out the back door which lead to the Potter’s spacious garden. When Remus had first visited the Potter’s home when he was thirteen, he had the startling realization that James Potter was very well off. It was a bit daunting, especially since Remus’ whole house could probably fit within one room of the mansion and he had been a bit nervous to even touch anything in fear of breaking it. Of course, Fleamont and Euphemia were no stranger to rough-housing, having known exactly what they were getting into with their own son, and Remus’ worries were quickly put to ease when Euphemia simply waved her wand at a vase that had tragically fallen to the floor amidst their game of dog-pile on Peter. Young Remus had almost forgotten that magic existed outside of Hogwarts, and he was in awe at seeing performed in such a domestic setting.

His favorite part of James’ home though was the garden. It was so big! There were wonderful trees that provided much needed shade on hot summer days, and pools of water run by magic to keep the vegetation alive. There were many times the boys pretended to be magizoologists searching for creatures in a jungle, or highly trained aurors on the hunt for evil wizards and—Remus’ personal favorite—pirates looking for treasure. It was a place filled with joy and adventure and even as the boys got older, it remained their sanctuary. Sirius had spent a lot of time in the garden since he arrived, sitting by himself beneath the starlit sky, crying out for his brother and the family that had hurt him. Remus had watched in privately, not daring to intrude on such moments, but wanting to be within reach just in case.

Sirius sat there now, next to a bed of deep red roses, softly running his fingers across the petals. Remus walked up, careful not spook him, and sat down beside him. He flickered his eyes in Sirius’ direction and noticed the other boy had started crying, but he did not pry. Now was not the time for that. Instead, he let his fingers trail through the grass beneath him and let his words fall lazily off his tongue.

“I read a new book at the beginning of summer,” Remus began, his tone light. “Mrs. Dalloway. It was a quick read. The entire novel takes place over the course of one day, how interesting is that? It’s become one of my favorites I think. Woolf is a great author—Virginia Woolf, she’s the one who wrote it.”

Sirius seemed to perk up at this. “Woolf? Could you be anymore ironic, Moony?”

A light laugh escaped Remus. “Believe me, I know. Mum was worried about that when she got it for me.”

The tension snapped back into Sirius as quickly as Remus realized his mistake. Hope Lupin was a generous woman, young and vibrant with a taste for progressive ideologies and love for everyone she met. She adored her son and kept him safe, never shying away from him despite his affliction with lycanthropy and Remus sometimes forgot how lucky he was to have her in his life until he was sat next to Sirius and realized that the Hope Lupin’s and Euphemia Potter’s of the world were unfortunately not the norm for everyone.

“They hate me,” Sirius says abruptly. “They hate that I don’t agree with them. That I don’t want to fucking pledge my allegiance to some dark lord who wants to kill all my friends and I—” he chokes off, a sob escaping him, “I don’t want to care, Remus. I don’t want to be bothered by the fact that my mother would rather curse me instead of hug me and that my father would rather have me dead instead of tarnishing his precious family name. But I do. I do care because they should care. I’m their son, I am their fucking flesh and blood and if blood is all that matters to them then why don’t they care about me?”

There were tears in his eyes as he looked at Remus, tears that Sirius had been holding back ever since he was eleven years old and discovered that parents were not supposed to punish their children for wanting to be loved, the pain and anguish of that realization that had built up over time finally reaching a breaking point. Remus’ own heart was breaking as he stared helplessly, not knowing what to do. These were not problems children were supposed to have. They were supposed to be young, careless, and dreaming up pranks to pull once they got back to school. Instead, they had to contend with a looming war and parents who were cruel and a curse that transformed you into a monster. This was their life, and it would never be easy, Remus thought, not for them.

“Sirius,” Remus whispered, “there are no words I can say to express to you how sorry I am that you’ve had to deal with any of this. Your parents…they’re wrong. They are so fucking wrong and they are so fucking blind for not being able to love you. You are the most loveable human being. You’re generous and caring and you…you take notes for me. When I miss class. And you always make sure my pillows are nice and fluffy after the moon and you rub those soothing salves on my skin at night. And you make me that special tea whenever I’m sick and you read to me when I can’t sleep. You kiss me like it’s the first time every time and you love me like it’s the only thing you’re meant to do. You clean James’ glasses for him and you make sure his Quidditch gear is ready to go on game day. You help Peter study and you let him go on and on about divination with you despite it being your least favorite subject. You’re the first one up to dance with Marlene at the parties and you braid Lily’s hair whenever she’s feeling upset over her sister. You are one of a kind, Sirius Black. You are a good friend and a good brother and you are the love of my life. Believe me when I tell you that you are loved.”

Sirius stared at him, the tears falling from his eyes leaving trails across his cheeks. He reached out for Remus, pulling the taller boy closer to close the distance between them. Sirius’ lips met Remus’, a tender kiss filled with gratitude and love and the promise of forever. When Sirius pulled away, his eyes were still shining, but there was new fervor there, a look of life that Remus had not seen reflected in those silver orbs for a long time.

“I love you so much,” Sirius said. And he smiled genuinely for the first time in months.

Remus smiled back. “I love you, too.”

“Come on,” Sirius said, standing up and offering his hand. “Let’s head back in.”

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hldailyupdate · 4 years

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With his newly shorn hair, a green jacket with big stitching, a T-shirt with blue palm trees and a cross dangling from his neck, Styles manages even on a visually unflattering Zoom call to look the part of the teen heart-throb. But, whereas other boy band singers have struggled to establish themselves as individual acts, Styles has made a handsome success of it. He launched a solo career in 2016 and has released two accomplished hit albums. In 2017, he made his acting debut in Christopher Nolan’s war film Dunkirk. He’s currently shooting Olivia Wilde’s horror-thriller, Don’t Worry Darling.

Even at the tender age of 26, Styles is a veteran of these cavernous spaces, which he refers to as “rooms”.

As an artist, it’s rare to find that if you’re touring for months at a time, to go in these big rooms and feel that comfortable.”

Financial Times about Harry being the new face of a new arena in Manchester. (26 October 2020)

#harry styles #harry update #article #financial times #hldaily #october 2020

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redhoodieone · 4 years

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Wrong Number Part 2

A/N: Here’s Part 2! Uh…I don’t really know what to say other than…enjoy it! Hopefully, I can post Part 3 sometime next week.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, Text Message Nudes, and Mutual Masturbation.

I’m in complete shock. I know I’m frozen because I can’t literally take my eyes off the text message Jason sent to me. It’s clear; it’s in black and white, staring right at me.

Do you ever think we’ll meet each other?

He wants to meet me. Jason wants to meet me in person!

I want to text him back, but my mind is full of many ridiculous questions and the fears of Jason being a serial killer, or rapist, or just an insane Arkham escapee blows up in my head.

Before I knew it, I see the three bubbles on my screen.

I’m sorry. That was selfish of me to ask you that even though we’re still practically strangers to each other. Forget I asked, please?

My heart suddenly hurts like fuck. The pain I’m instantly feeling is very familiar. A broken heart?

It’s pure agony when I notice Jason texting me again.

I’m not going to be able to text tonight, sweetheart. I’m working late with my brothers. I’ll text you tomorrow. Have a good night. Sweet dreams.

I can’t believe I did this. How could I do this to a guy who’s been so funny, so sweet, and such a good friend in only just four days through text messages?

I seriously fucked up. And now I have no one to talk to until I fall asleep.

And as strange as it is, I only sleep well after I talk to him.

————————————————————————------------------------------

And true to his word, Jason texts me at five in the morning, only to let me know he made it home safe after working with his brothers.

We only spoke about our jobs once. He told me he works alongside police officers and tracks down criminals and helps brings justice to the city. He seemed almost hesitant to tell me and turned the conversation to me as if he doesn’t like talking about work. He made it clear that he would rather keep his work private, and I didn’t push him to tell me more. I didn’t want to ask a lot of questions, even if I’m sometimes curious about it, because I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable about it.

I had told him I’m a waitress at the local diner just a block away from GCPD, and how I’m a late-night writer who dreams of publishing my novel on love and loss. And after I confessed about the book I wrote to Jason, I noticed he was very enthusiastic about that and even told me he wants to read it.

And as the shy and insecure person that I am, I became embarrassed and said no.

That only fueled the fire between us. Jason went on to explain he loves to read. His favorite literature consists of Shakespeare (particularly Hamlet), George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm, and even poetry from Edgar Allen Poe.

He even went into depth of how The Tell-Tale Heart mirrors his own reflection of life and stuck with him during a depressing time in his life.

It wasn’t until after we shared our love for literature that I found myself falling for Jason. As ridiculous and insane as that sounds, I couldn’t help but feel as if he’s the missing piece in my life.

It’s as if he’s the words to my story.

Important, but very valuable to a writer.

I was basically on a high that had me grinning like an idiot, giggling like a moron, and jumping in my seat as my stomach twists and turns like a roller coaster, when Jason refused to take no for an answer after I said he couldn’t read my novel. He even said his dad has connections to businesses in Gotham and could even help me get it published.

As much as I would want that, I couldn’t help but feel that it seems too good to be true. What if his dad took my novel and publish it as his own? What if I get cheated out of a contract and didn’t get paid fairly like I should? What if it’s basically a soul-sucking scam to just fuck my entire life up?

Jason must have sensed my hesitation after that, because he then began to tell me about his brothers.

How his older brother Dick still treats him like a kid, even though Jason is taller and stronger than him.

How his younger brother Tim is a computer nerd and often geeks out over the oddest things.

And how his youngest brother Damian is really a demon spawn, who tries to be tough shit, but is really a soft teddy bear.

He even has a sassy but wise butler, Alfred, who frightens him and sometimes reminds him of Vito Corleone from The Godfather. But the older man loves Jason as much as his dad, Bruce.

The stories about Jason’s family are the best. I always find myself excited to see what he texts me about his family.

How he and his brothers fight over their dad’s car, how they wrestle and spar to see who’s the strongest one, and how whenever one’s in trouble, the other three are already finding ways to save or bail the troubled one out.

It all makes me feel good to know they’re a close family. Especially when my cold, harsh reality reminds me I don’t have a family.

My parents died when I was just fifteen years old. I was in the school library alone during afterhours; reading on a beanbag chair because I didn’t want to go home. At that particular time, my parents were hanging around a different crowd. A crowd that was into drugs and gambling, and possibly other illegal activities I don’t even know about.

So, I chose to stay in the school library that night, sitting in my favorite beanbag chair the librarian allows me to use, reading a favorite horror book, munching away on a hot pocket (a snack also from the librarian), and just enjoy the silence but comfortable environment I would call home.

Then I was told they died in a car accident, but after eavesdropping on Commissioner Gordon and the other cops, I heard there could have been a hit on them.

The car accident happened only a block away from our apartment.

The brakes were cut.

The car was burning too much oil.

The airbags were taken out.

Many noticeable factors couldn’t pinpoint the real crime. Eventually, they just called it a “car accident”, and everything fishy about the case was ignored and never brought up again.

I suffered and struggled a lot in foster homes until I turned 18. I didn’t have any other family members to get into contact with, so I had to make do with the foster care system. After being shipped to three unstable and cruel homes, the last family only dealt with me until I turned 18 and I was soon kicked out. I did get lucky enough to get a job at the diner I’m working at since the new manager needed a pretty young girl to serve the customers.

I even went to Gotham Community College for a year but dropped out when I couldn’t pass any math and science classes.

It was fucking hard.

Science was confusing as hell.

Math was just evil and useless.

I hated those classes so much.

I only passed my English classes because reading and writing only made sense to me.

I even took a creative writing class and poetry class only to discover I want to write.

I want to be a writer.

So, I dropped out of college and decided to work full time at the diner as a waitress. Since no one wants to live and work in Gotham, I’m lucky enough to work morning and night without any issues. As dangerous and scary Gotham can be, I have nowhere else to go, so that’s why I stay here.

Maybe that’s why I’m eager to meet Jason. After everything I’ve been through, maybe I do need a little unpredictability.

Chances.

Risks.

The more I consider meeting Jason, the more I can imagine him being my family.

Or being a part of his.

Maybe.

————————————————————————--------------------------------

“You’re not going to meet him, right???” Stacey raises her voice at me in sheer annoyance and panic. She crosses her arms and glares at me to answer her. “Right, Y/N???”

I sigh as softly as I can while wiping down the booths and tables for the night. In the midst of a battle, I find myself growling with irritation when I can’t wipe away the sticky maple syrup spills on the hard surface.

“He could be a fat, old man who picks up on teenage girls! He’s probably some 40-year-old loser who still lives on his mom’s basement playing Street Fighter with kids! What if he tricks you into meeting up in a hotel room and has his way with you? Then what, Y/N?! Does that sound like a good idea to you?!” Stacey snaps.

I exhale deeply and stand up straight; after leaning over the table to reach the opposite side for some time. Turning around, I face Stacey Patterson, a tall, petite, pretty blonde, fresh face girl straight out of high school. She’s a waitress like me, and after only working here for a year, we’ve become close friends; always looking after each other in dangerous Gotham City.

“I didn’t say I was going to meet him, Stacey. We’re just talking about it,” I answer timidly.

Despite being five years older than Stacey, she still intimidates the hell out of me. Whether it’s her 5’11 height, loud voice, or natural evil glare, I can never speak up or defend myself. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t take a stand.

Because what if I actually piss her off? What if she stops being my friend?

Because I don’t think I could live in Gotham and not have any friends and not know anyone.

Stacey is like my best friend, and her friends Amber and Holly hang out in our group. Stacey even says they’re my friends, too, even though I clearly know they only put up with me because of her.

And if Amber and Holly aren’t my friends, then I’ll just have Stacey. And if I don’t have Stacey, I’ll only have Jason.

And who knows if Jason is who he says he is, and if he’s even real.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You’re totally thinking about Jason! You’re thinking about meeting up with him because I could see it in your eyes!” Stacey declares. She waves her arms around to emphasize her point. “You like this guy! You have feelings for a guy you’ve never even met!”

“That is not true,” I argue weakly.

“Yes, it is! And we don’t even know if it’s a guy!”

“Jason is a guy, and I can tell!”

“Oh, really? How? Do tell.”

I stare at Stacey with a serious expression, except my cheeks are burning with embarrassment as usual. “He...comes off like a guy. I know he is. I can tell through his text messages,” I say.

“Anybody can sound like anyone through text messages. That’s how people catfish victims online!” Stacey argues.

“I’m a writer, Stacey. I just...have a feeling, okay? I know Jason says who he is, and I believe him,” I say strongly, as I push a lose strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m doing this the smart way, too. When he and I decide when we should meet up, I’ll let you know. Maybe we can make it a group thing. I bring a friend. He brings a friend.”

Stacey sighs in defeat when she realizes I’m not backing down. She glances up at me with a stern face. “Fine. When you two decide when you’re both going to meet up, I’ll be there. I’ll be there to make sure he’s not on America’s Most Wanted, and to make sure he doesn’t try to lure you to his mom’s basement. BUT...you have to go on a date. A REAL date with a guy we both know, AND who could be good for you,” she states loudly and clearly.

“But Stacey-”

“Hey! Only until this Jason guy comes to Gotham and we meet him! Until then, I want you to give this guy a chance. A fair chance! For me...please???” Stacey pleads. She pouts and gives me her puppy dog eyes, which she knows I always give in to.

I’m too nice. Mom always said I was too nice, and that one day it’ll get me in trouble.

I’m still wondering when that’ll happen.

“Okay, I’ll give this guy a chance. I swear I will,” I promise and salute her. “But who’s the guy?”

Stacey grins in success and hugs me tightly. “Good! Because you’re like my sister, Y/N, and I just want to see you happy. You deserve it,” she says softly. “And it’s Chace. Remember him? He’s the drummer from, WakeHell. He moved in right next door to me, and I know you two will hit it off right!”

Chace????

Oh yeah. I know him.

He’s a total bad boy. A bad boy I don’t even think I could deal with.

I force a smile but then frown, because the only guy in my life who makes me happy is Jason.

Who I only text.

Who I haven’t even met.

————————————————————————---------------------------------

The next day is a lazy day since it’s my day off. I spent the majority of it sleeping, doing laundry, and just doing minor cleaning around my apartment until it’s 9:00 P.M.

And Cruel Intentions is on TV.

Lying on the couch with my second glass of Vodka Cranberry, I find myself really buzzed and horny. Ryan Phillippe back then was hot, and him making out with Reese Witherspoon is doing things to me.

My phone bings. It’s Jason.

What are you up to tonight, sweetheart?

Just a night in, a cup of glasses of vodka and cranberry, and Cruel Intentions is on TV.

I barely realize I’m buzzed and texting Jason. But my horny side doesn’t care.

I sorry I’m buzzed right now lol.

LOL no worries. I just came back from the bar with my brothers. We had a successful night and decided to get some drinks. We even had Tim and Damian use fake I.D’s.

I laugh and snort. Thank God no one heard me do that.

That’s good...we wouldn’t want Tim and Damian to be left out. They’re your baby brothers, Jay.

Jay? I really like it when you call me that. And I especially like you buzzed. LOL.

I like me buzzed too! I think I’m way more fun and free!

LOL!!! Exactly, princess!

I smile down at my phone. I love it when he calls me princess.

You said you’re watching Cruel Intentions? I just found it on TV. Wow...this movie’s old LOL.

Shut up!!! I find young Ryan Phillppe sexy in this movie!

You seriously find him sexy??? The guy’s a whiny brat! A pussy! Fuck, this movie woulda been sexier if we actually saw the douchebag eat out Cecile and saw him fuck Annette AND Kathryn!

I gasp out loud and giggle.

Then it would have been a porno! Not a movie! Hahaha!!!!

That’s fine with me, princess!

I softly whimper at just the thought of Jason watching porn. Closing my eyes, I imagine how he would sound, touch himself, and look when he’s pleasuring himself.

My eyes shoot open when I hear Sebastian telling Cecile he wants to kiss her…down there. I quickly turn my attention to the TV and watch the movie. Even though he takes advantage of a clueless, drunk girl in the movie, just the thought of him eating her out makes me clench my thighs.

It’s been too long. WAY TOO LONG!

The last guy I was seeing didn’t like to eat me out; claimed it was disgusting and unnecessary to do before sex.

As if sucking his dick was glamorous AND fun!

My thoughts are interrupted when Jason texts me.

You’re quiet tonight…does this scene turn you on???

The laughing emojis he texts me should hurt my feelings since I can easily be embarrassed over sexual things but…he’s right.

I’m turned on with just the thought of getting eaten out.

I boldly text Jack back. Unashamed and VERY buzzed.

You have no idea. Just imagining him eating me out, writing the alphabet with his tongue, and making me have an explosion is making me wet my panties right now.

I laugh to myself just seeing that Jason read my text message and is responding fast. The texting bubbles have never looked so good.

You’re…you’re wet right now????

Yes. Soooo fucking wet.

A surge of drunken confidence hits me, and I quickly shove off my pajama shorts until they’re on the floor. In just my white tank top and pink panties, I bravely slip my fingers into my damp panties and rub the wetness against my sensitive clit.

And with my other hand, I raise my cell phone and snap a picture of fingers in my wet panties.

And I send the picture to Jason.

I bite my lip in anticipation when I see he read my text message and saw my picture. The texting bubbles do not appear on the screen. He’s not texting me back.

Frowning, I wonder if I freaked Jason out. Maybe I crossed the line. Maybe I made him uncomfortable. Maybe I’m just not sexy.

Suddenly, my phone beeps. Unlocking my cell phone screen, I see two text messages AND a picture.

Oh, fuck sweetheart…that’s fucking sexy. You’re fucking sexy…

Jason sends me a picture of him wearing his boxer briefs, and his hand holding his hard, thick cock, showing me the outline and shape of his boner.

Delicious. I can feel my pussy clench just from imagining Jason fucking me with his cock.

Fuck doll...you’re doing this to me.

I whimper pathetically and can’t help but continue to rub my clit and respond back. I can see my juices staining my panties.

Are you touching yourself too?

Fuck yeah. Just seeing your fingers playing with your wet, pretty pussy got me hard. I’m jacking off to your picture.

Would you want me like I want you?

Fuck yes, sweetheart. I probably want you more than you want me.

I slip a finger inside my pussy and moan. My thumb runs fast hard circles on my clit, and I’m soon pushing in two fingers. I’m fucking myself crazy, but I imagine Jason is finger fucking me because my fingers wouldn’t get me off so fast.

And his fingers are thick. His hands are fucking huge!

I bite my bottom lip. “Fuck...I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” I whisper to myself. I snap another picture of my fingers shoved in my pussy, and how I’ve gotten wetter. I send him the picture with the truth.

I need to cum so bad. I wish it was you touching me.

Yeah? What would you want me to do to you, doll?

Fuck that picture’s so hot.

I’d want you to finger me. Eat me out. Fuck me hard.

Jason sends me another picture of him stroking his cock but with his hand in his underwear. I can see a wet spot where his tip is; stained with his precum. I want a taste of it so badly.

Fuck I would baby. Your pussy looks so good enough to eat. I’d fucking eat you out until you can’t cum anymore. I bet you taste delicious.

Oh fuck…I’m so close. I want your cock so bad, Jay. You’re gonna make me cum…

Rub your clit harder baby. Fuck your pussy fast and hard with your fingers. Imagine they’re my fingers, baby. I’d fuck you so hard and deep.

I want to see your cum, okay? Take a picture of that pretty pussy and show me what I did to you.

I do what Jason says. Behind his words, I can feel his authority. Even though I can’t hear Jason’s voice, just reading his words makes me burst like fireworks. My thumb rubs my clit harder, and I crook my fingers just right until I push against my g-spot until I cum. My orgasm is intense, and I force myself to snap a picture of my soaked underwear and fingers. I sent it to him with a lazy smile.

My phone beeps. Jason sent me a picture of his thick, juicy, cum covering his abdominal muscles. I smile a little with pride.

Fuck that was hot, sweetheart. I needed that.

Me too. Now, I’m sleepy.

LOL, I’m tired too. Get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.

Okay…goodnight Jay.

I roll over onto my side and shut off the TV. Pulling my UGG throw blanket over my body, I snuggle up to fall asleep. My phone beeps again. Opening one eye, I reach over to read the text message.

Goodnight doll. Sweet dreams.

#dc comics #batman #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x y/n smut #jason todd smut

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hlupdate · 4 years

Link

With his newly shorn hair, a green jacket with big stitching, a T-shirt with blue palm trees and a cross dangling from his neck, Styles manages even on a visually unflattering Zoom call to look the part of the teen heart-throb. But, whereas other boy band singers have struggled to establish themselves as individual acts, Styles has made a handsome success of it. He launched a solo career in 2016 and has released two accomplished hit albums. In 2017, he made his acting debut in Christopher Nolan’s war film Dunkirk. He’s currently shooting Olivia Wilde’s horror-thriller, Don’t Worry Darling.

Even at the tender age of 26, Styles is a veteran of these cavernous spaces, which he refers to as “rooms”.

As an artist, it’s rare to find that if you’re touring for months at a time, to go in these big rooms and feel that comfortable.”

#harry styles #articles #261020

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dhampirslays · 3 years

Note

✂ - a vivid memory

" This is shit. "

My gaze rose to meet Hope's as she pushed her bedding off her legs and marched towards where I sat, legs folded one under the other and leaning back against the old wallpaper. For a moment, she stood tall before me, curiously observing the plate I had been trying to paint for the past few hours before taking it in her hands and carefully dumping it over by the window's wardrobe alongside the rest of my creations. With the curtains drawn closed, the area was illuminated by the dim light of our lamp posts, standing tall by the side of our beds, and what faint rays of moonlight managed to peek past the curtain's heavy material ― even so, Hope's face was cast with shadows, making it incredibly hard to read.

" Hey, I was working on that ! "

She didn't answer. Instead, she squinted her eyes on the plate, studying it. " Isn't that the Council's gift to the school ? And wasn't it hanging on the wall by the main entrance ? "

I grunted my reply, setting the brush and the colouring palette down. " They send one of those every year. I highly doubt they'll even notice one's missing. "

" There's like, a dozen of them here. "

" Exactly my point. "

Snorting a chuckle, Hope pushed the brush and the palette side, making room for herself to sit before leaning back and bringing her head to rest over my lap. A grin crossed her face as she grabbed a hold of the paintbrush, slapped it over to the side of my face before I even had time to turn away, let alone shelter myself. Casting her a pointing glare, I turned my head towards the mirror where my eyes widened double their size at the red line starting above my bow and descending in waves down to my cheek. My lips parted, ready to voice my protest when Hope rose her hand still holding the brush ― I watched it closely, ready to dodge if she felt like splashing colour to my face again, but instead, she tossed it away and I was simply left to stare at how the brush rolled upon the old, wooden floor until it bumped to the side of the carpet.

Blinking my confusion, I looked down at her. " What the hell was that for ? "

" If I'm going to die I ain't leaving them with a clean floor. They can clean it themselves. " She huffed, crossing one leg over her knee. " Aren't you nervous about tomorrow ? "

So that's what it was all about; the Tento di Cruciamentum, or, as us normal people who thought that Latin was a waste of time to learn liked to call it, cruelty test. At least that was its direct translation ― the Watchers always referred to it as the Test, possibly recognising that telling a bunch of teenagers that they were going to be cruelty tasted wasn't the best idea, especially since said teenagers had the power to burn the entire school to the ground. Personally, I always thought that cruelty was the wrong noun to describe it ― death, was a better fit for it, more so since it wasn't exactly guaranteed that if a slayer went in, she came out; in one peace, that was.

The process had changed ever since Buffy threw a fit about it when she had first undergone it, but the key points remained the same; upon maturity, the slayer was injected with a mix of muscle relaxants and adrenaline suppressors. When the drug kicked in and she was rented powerless, she'd be sent in to fight a demon ― and although the manual didn't exactly specify which type of demon it was, more often than not, it was vampires as they were considerably easier to subdue. The Watchers always bragged that it was more for the experience than anything else, claiming that whilst they were trained to fight, this was meant to establish intelligence; practical thinking. It was also meant to be a controlled environment but accidents had happened before. Or such they were listed as, anyway. The truth was that as long as a vampire was set loose, no one was really safe ― and a powerless slayer detained in a closed space with it was basically a snack with a bow.

I never thought it was about the experience though. They could have easily taken us out in the field to get that done. Rather, it was about control; seeing if, aside from the physical factor, we were in the right headspace, still capable to get the job done once we were past that age peak. It was like Hollywood but. . . deadlier.

And the changes the test had suffered ? We now got a one-week notice paper and an instructions manual. Some would like to argue that training Watchers didn't have a different fate since they had to undergo a test of their own, but at least theirs targeted their mentality. No one would come to rip them to shreds.

Alas, I nodded. " A little. Worrying about it won't change anything. " In fact, that was the reason why I had started painting that plate. To get my mind off the fact that in less than twelve hours, I'd either be alive and graduating or having a very heated conversation with Saint Peter.

" So you don't mind that they'll barge in, in the middle of the night, while we're asleep and inject us with God knows what ? "

I had to admit the thought was pretty unsettling. We knew what the syringe contained but, at the same time, did we, really ? I grabbed a wet tissue as I started to rub it all over my face, trying to get the paint off my skin. " They don't have a reason to further hurt us. They need us for the, you know, slaying thing. "

" No, they needed us. Past tense. Now there are too many of us and it's easier to pick and choose who you want. "

I didn't want to admit that Hope was right but. . . she was making some strong points there. Although the old council was thoroughly replaced, they were quite known for going to extreme lengths when it came to disobeying slayers, evident with what had went down with Faith Lehane. And back then, there were just two slayers, not an entire race of them. Admittedly, it'd make no difference now if one girl were to die while taking the Tento di Cruciamentum. The world had survived with fewer before.

Shifting beneath her, I moved across my bed before laying down, face-first into my pillow. This was all too much to think of in one night; I was tired and suddenly unsure of tomorrow. " I guess, " I returned, turning my head to look at her. " Will you stay here ? " It wouldn't make any difference if she slept in my bed or hers, given the distance between them was already short, to begin with. But, it would make me feel a little better knowing that she was there.

Hope stared at me for a good second before nodding her head and squeezing her way on the bed to lay beside me. Using one of the extra pillows for support, she then turned her back on me, as if preparing for look guard.

" G'night. " She sang. " Don't let the vampires bite. "

I felt like someone had run me over with a track, stitched me back together and then ran me over again. And had then dumped me on the floor.

With a groan, I rolled into my back before sitting up on the hardwood floor that creaked beneath me. Pressing a hand at the back of my neck where I still felt the biting of the needle, I looked around me in question.

The room didn't have much furniture in it; aside from the old fireplace that stood in the very back, there were two stray and broken into couches, a coffee table, and a longer, higher table a few feet from where I was standing ― other than that, the room was naked and judging by the cobwebs and amount of dust on the legs of the two tables, I could only assume this place wasn't used much. My head snapped back at the couches, where I squinted.

There were two couches in this room, and I had been left on the floor like a pile of dirty laundry. Worse even; at least the dirty laundry belonged in a hamper.

" Assholes, " I muttered under my breath as I slowly rose to my feet. They felt like they were made out of jello, and when they swayed off balance, I had to catch hold of the table before I found myself on the floor again. My body cried out for the strength it was missing, for the strength that had been taken away from it, and such was evident on my every waving step, slightly missing, slightly out of balance. I knew this was only temporary, that the power taken from me would be returned in a couple of days when the drugs wore off ― but for that to happen, I had to survive until then.

When I got the hang of human walk, navigating my way around the estate wasn't so bad. Turning left from the room I was previously in, I walked up to the door and gave its knob a hard pull; locked, and it wouldn't even budge. I tried again, praying to whatever mystical force or God there was out there to give me back my power so I can kill the demon and be done with it ― but, alas, the door stayed put ( if not slightly shake at its edges ). Sighing in defeat, I moved towards the door's little window to the right, hoping to at least get a sense of where I was, or, if that was too much to ask for, perhaps the time. Using my sleeve to rub upon the dusty glass surface, I grimaced in disgust at the dirt that was now plaguing my pajama sleeve before pushing my face against the glass, glaring outside. The other side was still smudged, still blurry but I could at least see the rays of sun peeking past the dirt. It was day alright, which meant that for the next few hours, I had the greater advantage.

Now, all I had to do was locate the demon.

Grabbing myself an iron weapon from the fireplace, I took the stairs to the upper floor. With the iron shovel in hand, I traveled from room to room, searching for my opponent. And yet, every room I checked was void of life ― or, non-life in this case. I came to a stop in the very last room, glancing around me puzzled, still in hand. There was no demon or anyone in general in that house. Did they forget to unleash it ? Or maybe the test on itself had changed and they had instead been monitoring my way of thinking ? They did say it required intelligence.

First, I heard its growl, and then, I got smacked across the floor. Crashing on the wall behind me, the impact had me seeing stars and flashing colours. My back, on the other hand, sent paralysing jolts of pains all the way up to my skull which, in their own turn, took a hot second to recover from. And when my vision returned to normal, I saw it ― him, whatever the vampire was anyway. One second he was in the middle of the room and then he was kneeling before me, black eyes eagerly taking me in curiously, hungrily, as if I was a sandwich in a glass case. And then he leaned down and patted my hair down like he was trying to fix what the impact had done to them.

I wasn't really sure I was breathing during that time. All I knew was that my heart was beating loudly in my chest and I could feel it all throughout my body.

Grabbing a hold of my shoulder, he pulled me up to my feet, and now I had the chance to study him as well. With matted dark hair, his dark clothes contrasted against his pale complexion, the dried bloodstains on his shirt indicating that he had been in there a while. And then, his face turned wrinkly, his forehead bumping out as his eyes turned a bright yellow shade and his fangs making an appearance. Swallowing past the deja-vus and the paralyzing fear it brought along, offered me a toothy smile before craning my head to the side, to expose my neck and very little bits of my shoulder as his tongue ran across his fangs. If I didn't feel like lunch before, I certainly did now.

" I look forward to this time of the year, " He sighed in content, voice slightly muffled by his fangs. " You'll have to excuse me if I skip the introduction. I'm so hungry and you look very delicious. "

My fingers tightened in a fist, brushing slightly against the wall and the curtain from aside; a longshot of a plan, but it was all I got ― and when his fangs were almost a breath away from my neck, I pulled on the curtains as hard as I possibly could. The rusty hinges gave in, the curtains fell onto the floor, and light, beautiful, sweet, light painted the room an orange-golden shade. The vampire screeched in pain and brought his hands up to shelter his face that was soon starting to smoke as he stumbled away, attempting to regain composure at the shadowy corner of the room. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I grabbed the shovel and bolted out of the room, despite the fact that my back was now painfully aching due to the prior collision.

I had some time on my side; judging by the sun's colours, it would take approximately twenty minutes until the sun would start to set ― twenty minutes that the vampire would spend trapped in that room ― twenty minutes to come up with a plan or I wouldn't live to see the next sunrise.

Panicked, I entered the first room I saw and locked the door behind me. Dropping the pliers to the ground, I anxiously paced up and down, as I ran my shaking hands through my auburn strands. Plan, plan, plan, I needed a plan. But nothing would come to my mind, and the room started to close in and spin around me and ―

Startled, I jumped up when someone started banging the wall to my left. Holding the shovel close to my chest, as if it was my very own bodyguard, I hesitantly marched up to the wall. Given how every single trust of the person behind it would echo into this room, this wall was fake; holding a wooden entrance door at the very middle, I tried its handle, slowly twisting it to check whether it was unlocked but at the same time trying not to alert the person banging behind it. The knob didn't nudge ― the door was locked.

" For fuck's sake, let me out, I'm hungry ! "

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sound of the familiar voice. Scooting closer to the wall, I gave my hardest hit which, in this state, still wasn't enough to make a single crack. " Hope ? "

There was a pause. " Jo ? What's happening over there what are you doing ? "

" I'm having a vampire on my tail. " I explained the very obvious. " And I have approximately ten minutes before he eats me. "

" Shit, " She cursed. Then, another pause. " Is the door locked ? Can I come through ? "

" It's locked. " I sighed, staring up the wall in an attempt to come up with something, anything to join the rooms. Glancing down at the shovel, and then back at the wall, I frowned before I started to hit its door edge with it, watching as the surface dented in every hit I landed on it. " Hold up. " I called out before fully shoving the shovel inside the crack. Before today, all it would have taken for me to break through would have been a punch; and now, I had to dig through an entire wall just to get a small opening done. It was pathetic but alas, I put my whole body weight against the tip of the shovel, trying to force it to break through ― and it did; but it also took an entire chank of the wall with it.

Grabbing through the now enormous crack on the wall for support, I watched as Hope poked her head through it, glanced around the room, and then pulled back. A mere second had passed before I now saw two legs poking through, pushing and squirming around the crack in an attempt to wiggle their way into the room. It couldn't have taken more than a minute until she was fully in my side of the room, panting and undusting herself as she straightened her back.

I had the overwhelming urge to hug her, and cry, and hug her some more but the clock was ticking and we had now five whole minutes to figure out how to dust the vampire in the next room before the sun went down. With Hope here, my mind was more at ease; more capable of filtering through idea after idea before they all came crashing together to form a hint of a plan. I glanced back at the shovel, now cracked at the edges into a slightly sharpened tooth before I grabbed both it and Hope, dragging her downstairs. As soon as we were in the room I had first started in, I grabbed a hold of the ashy log, still inside the fireplace, and shoved it into the floor.

" What the fuck are you doing ? "

" Sharpening the log into a stake, " I curtly answered as I thrust the log into the floor, time after time until the burnt parts of it had given in to good, old wood. Exactly what we needed.

" How ? " She pressed, kneeling down next to the log, her interest peaked.

" With this, " I said, pushing the broken shovel forward. " We don't need it to be perfect, just pointy. Get to sharpening. "

By the time we had finished digging and sharpening, my nails and hands hurt. I was pretty sure some splinters had poked their way into my fingers, but alas, we had created a pretty solid stake. With a good hit, it could puncture the vampire's heart; it had the potential for it. After that, Hope left to hide with the stake and I, went upstairs to be the personal bait; to lure him downstairs so that she could deliver the final blow.

I didn't wander around for long before the vampire took a couple shaking steps out of the room, flashing me with a wicked smile. Even from a good distance away, I could smell the burnt skin, I could see the burning marks across his face and his hands. Facing the sun as he was, it was a wonder that he hadn't caught on fire on the spot.

" That wasn't very nice, little red. " He cooed, taking several steps towards me. For each step he took forward, I took one back until my hand rested upon the staircase's banister. His smile widened in the idea of a chase, of the thrill of having to chase your food before you ate it.

I set off in a run and the vampire followed closely behind me. Whereas my back ached, pulled with every step I took, the vampire only grew stronger, gaining more and more ground by the second. Finally, we made our descent in the staircase; I ran down as fast as my legs could possibly carry me, even skipped some stairs in hopes that it'd give me a small leverage but alas, just before the heel of my foot managed to hit the last step, something pushed my body forward and I landed with a grunt on the very bottom of the stairs.

I barely had time to roll upon my back as the vampire hovered over me, clasped his than around my throat, and squeezed until I was left gasping for a mere breath. Content with his victory, he loosened up his grip before, for yet again, growing his fangs but this time, wasting no time as he leaned down to bite upon my neck. I closed my eyes shut, body stiffening and ready to take the blow ― yet, the bite never came.

Opening my eyes, I turned my head to look at the man before me, frozen in place and with eyes double their size as he stared down at me. I moved my gaze to his chest, where the handmade stake was now coming through ― and not long after, I witnessed the vampire's body crumple and fall, its flash and bones turning into dust and dissolving over me.

Coughing the dust away from my face, I grabbed the hand Hope had extended for me to take and helped myself to my feet. My chest burnt as the oxygen flew back to my lugs.

" So that's done, " said Hope, shifting beside me. " How do we get out now ? "

" Grab the shovel and break through the window ? " I returned, brows arching. Following her shrug, I grabbed a hold of the shovel and walked up to the window, raising its tip to collide with the glass surface, but before I brought it down, the door to my left opened wide and a suited man walked in, fixing the collar of his jacket.

" No, no, that won't be necessary, please. Do not wreck the house more than you already have. " He scolded as if I was a toddler about to ruin my mother's finest vase. Extending his arm towards Hope and I, he added, " Poe Fillcraft, Council member. "

I didn't bother shaking his hand; neither did Hope. Instead, we just stared at him, the shovel still raised in my hands as if debating whether to start hitting him, or the window. I was still pondering my decision. Seeing that he wouldn't get a handshake anytime soon, he lowered his hand and cleared his throat.

" Having witnessed your examination thoroughly, I'm not sure how we feel about two slayers sharing one demon. It's possible that you'll have to reta― "

" Wait, " I cut in, brows furrowing into a deep frown. " You saw that ? "

" And you did fuck all to prevent us from dying ?! "

" Twice, " I pressed in, eyes narrowing. Would smacking a Council member with a shovel count as a serious offense ?

" Language, " He chastised Hope before sighing. " It was a monitored examination, we aren't allowed to offer help of any kind. " Hope scoffed in response and Poe's eyes narrowed at her frame before he continued; " I'm afraid you'll have to repeat the test. Separately. "

" That won't be necessary. " Mrs. Lovegood stepped in, offering both of us reassuring smiles. I waited, shovel still in hand until my hands started to grow sore. " The test is complete and the goal has been achieved. And besides, fixing and setting up the house would take a good couple of weeks, not to mention the test preparation and the syringe, and ― "

" Okay, fine. " Poe sighed, stepping out of the doorway. " You're free to leave. Don't forget to stop by the administration office to get your papers. "

Hope and I stepped out of the house. We walked down the stairs, and into the pathway to get back to the school but I stopped dead in my tracks. Instead, I turned around, lifted the shovel, and threw it across the window, watching as it broke the glass and tackled the curtain into the ground. Poe parted his lips, about to scold me for my outburst but Mrs. Lovegood shushed him by placing a hand upon his shoulder. Glaring at both of them, I turned on my heel, ready to follow Hope.

" Oh, and Joyce ? "

" What ? "

" I'd love to see those plates of yours. "

#( ❛ to feel alive: not just the carcass but the sparkle ❜ ― answered asks )#( ❛ tell me where to put the anger ❜ ― solos )#kennedybtvs #can you tell my braincells almost died during the end lmao

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whyamiinopmhellagain · 4 years

Text

How Dateable are the Heroes of One Punch Man?

A note, I know these kinds of things are not the only factors that make a relationship successful, but they are large ones. This is simply my take on it.

They are all rated on a scale from one to ten. If they receive a zero, they are considered undateable for reasons that cannot be fixed through emotional growth.

Also, this is pretty lengthy. Be warned, and happy reading!

Hit the Lotto (8-10):

King (9.5/10): King, in my opinion, is the most dateable hero. He’s a genuinely good guy. He also seems to have a lot of common interests, such as anime and gaming, which makes him pretty chill to get along with. He’s a homebody, which means if you get close to him, he’ll want to spend more time with you, and doesn’t mind having quiet moments. In fact, I think he enjoys them more! King is not excessively arrogant, and doesn’t appear to have attachment or trust issues. He really just wants someone to love him for being him, and not for living a lie. The fear of him getting exposed, and being surrounded by the press will probably be frequent worries in the relationship, but in both cases, it seems to be protected by King’s luck powers, and the fact that he doesn’t go out much. If you can deal with those, and help him with the anxiety that comes with it, you’re golden for a happy, healthy relationship!

Mumen Rider (9/10): Awww, look at you! You hooked a sweetie pie! He’s kind, morally strong, good hearted, and hardworking! He will not hesitate to shower you in kindness and love. He does not seem to have any attachment issues, or trouble with building trust and a healthy relationship. The major issues of this one are he’s constantly getting hurt, so you’ll never know when he’ll be in the hospital, and he’s pretty much always working. The first one is counteracted by his indomitable spirit, and how devoted he is to making the world a better place. He also would very much appreciate if you’d visit him in the hospital, and even more when he’s discharged, and still needs a little extra care (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.).The second one’s counteraction is with the fact that when he cares about something, he cares hard. If he loves you, he’d totally work to shell out those extra minutes for you, if you’re willing to do the same.

Saitama (8.5/10): This relationship is very similar to King’s! They both have the same, “we veg, we read manga, play video games and stay indoors” mentality. The same pros as King. The reason he’s ranked lower is because of very obvious depression, that is slowly getting better, but I doubt will fully ever be cured (the price he paid for his training), and there will be people breathing down his neck. If you want to be with our egg, you have to check with the toaster first. He’s very close with his Sensei, and Saitama makes it a priority to make sure he is safe and happy. Fubuki may also interfere as well, but she’s most likely no threat if you mean that much to Saitama.

Tanktop Master (8.5/10): Honestly, this man is so wholesome. The only reason he’s lower, is because we don’t know too much about his personality. He’s strong, kind, and an excellent leader! No obvious arrogance or aggression, and seems to have the ability to just talk things out with people, I realize this relationship would also have the “always having people over” thing. Except much more active.They work out, run, wear tank-tops, and have group gatherings all the time! If you’re extroverted, and like to make friends, you two will fit perfectly! He may. also have some insecurities about his skill level. Be sure to comfort him with a warm hug, because he really is a strong boy.

Darkshine (8.5/10): Remember what I said about Tanktop Master? Same applies to him. Wholesome, but unknown. He may have more strength and power, but his ego is much more fragile. He may need some comfort from time to time, and I’m sure he’d be happy to take in a hug and some encouraging words from you! He seems to have the ability to form healthy bonds, and build trust quickly and safely, which is necessary to a happy relationship. Overall, seems like a good time for both of you!

Zombieman (8/10): Odds are, this is going to work out. That is, if you can break down the massive emotional barriers he’s built up. While he seems pretty chill, he knows something. He knows that everyone he loves and cares about is going to die before him. He distances himself from almost everyone, simply because he doesn’t want to be put through that pain. I feel like he’s experienced it before. Unless he starts to care about you, and when he cares, he cares HARD. He’ll be in it for the long run. If you can take the time and effort to get to know him, maybe, just maybe, he’ll invite you over for dinner with him and Child Emperor. It will grow from there, maybe he invites you over, just the two of you, watch a movie, and sit on the couch. (Personal headcanon of mine, he’s got Child Emperor, and he loves taking care of him. Maybe when he leaves the nest... he’ll want to raise one or two with you?)

Won’t be the best, but not the worst (5-7):

Metal Bat (7/10): He’s a tough boy with a heart of pure gold! He fights very passionately for what he believes in, and won’t let anyone stop him! Except Zenko. If you want this teen’s (please remember he’s young) heart, you’re going to have to go through her. You’ll also have to be okay with the fact that most of his time is going to be devoted to taking care of her, and she’ll be around you two 90% of the time. He needs someone who can give here that sibling affection, like having a second parent. He also needs someone who can be his IQ, and his books smarts. Help him with his homework, take notes for him in class, or help Zenko study, (It probably will be a good way to win her over too), it will be very much appreciated. Also, be sure you are someone who he can be a kid with. He’s 17, and has to act like an adult. He needs time to take a break, drop Zenko off with someone, and go sit in the streets at night and eat ice cream while you both watch the street lights. Somedays, he needs a shoulder to cry on from exhaustion with his job, or panic about the future. Badd’s going to need you to help him grow. He’ll be loyal and happy with you, you just have to be patient with him, his overload of responsibilities, and his sister.

Fubuki (6.5/10): I hope you like your women in charge and powerful, because that’s what you’re going to get. She’ll be with her group, making deals and looking for more underlings. You won’t be her first priority. Don’t try to hit on her, unless you’re a higher rank than she is. Otherwise, you’re going to have to catch her attention the hard way. If you even manage to get her to see, acknowledge you, and like you, you’re not even halfway done. You have to go through the Blizzard Group. If you pass that, you must pass your hardest test, the association’s secret weapon, Tatsumaki. Older sisters do worry, and intruded. She just wants to protect her precious little sister. If you can win her over, then you have secured a necessary piece for Fubuki’s heart; she values her sister’s thoughts more than she lets on. but those people will still be there to protect her. She needs to be the strong one, because softness is a weakness. Or so she’s been taught. You’ll need to get her to open up a little. You’ll see that she has a soft side. She frets whenever Eyelashes or Wild Monkey get beat up, and buys Lily a scoop of ice cream whenever she gets a high score on any test. That doesn’t mean she’s not the leader. She wants to wear the pants in the relationship. She’s the breadwinner. Show her how strong she is, even when she isn’t large and in charge. If you can do that, her group will notice a difference in the way she carries herself. She’ll be a bit lighter on her feet, and have more courage to take on higher level missions by herself. She’ll be pretty tough to break into, but not completely impossible, if you know how to do it. (Side note, thanks to @metalbatandzenko for helping me with this one!)

Pig God (6/10): He’s mostly just here because of mystery. We don’t know pretty much anything about him, other than he’s a good guy who likes to eat. We don’t know anything about his dark side, or what he truly values. He has been seen to be helpful, and dedicated to his job, which gives him points, but not enough to make him rank higher.

Atomic Samurai (5.5/10): I feel like he’s not the first person anyone would go after. He’s aging, he’s busy, and can get quite arrogant. His disciples are like his kids, and if you want to be close with him, you have to go through them first. You must be good friends with them, you’ll be seeing them quite often. I see him as someone who’d want to keep his hero live and private life separate. Sure, he’d introduce you to his disciples and Silverfang, maybe take you to a party or too, but other than that, he’d keep you out of the loop for your own safety, so he won’t be around too much. He just wants someone to share a futon with. Maybe make him some dinner, and talk about regular stuff. Not everything has to be about fighting. Sometimes, he just wants someone to drink tea and meditate with, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Silverfang (5/10): He seems like a good, respectable guy. However, he’s 81. The only reason I could see someone dating him would be for a sugar daddy, because S-class makes that coin. As good as a guy he is, odds are, it’s not going to last very long.

Yeah, this most likely won’t be healthy (1-4):

Amai Mask (4/10): This relationship seems like every fan’s dream at first. He’s tall, rich, famous, and has a great set of abs. The courting phase to his partner will seem heavenly, as the world’s biggest superstar showers them with attention. He woos them gracefully, until he deems you safe to let into his life good enough arm candy. He’ll keep you for as long as he needs you, but still treating you like royalty in front of the cameras. In reality, he will just be throwing you under the bus for his work, and trying to cover the wounds with his money. If you (understandably) hate the treatment, and confront him about it, he’ll just tell you to leave. If you put up with it, he’ll throw you out when he needs the coverage. He just has to hope he doesn’t fall for you. He can’t let you see what lies underneath. You fell in love with Handsome Kamen Amai Mask, not [Webcomic Spoiler].

Genos (3/10): I don’t see this happening now. That kid is traumatized as hell, and needs to learn to cope. Losing everyone and everything is hard, which makes him cling to what he has. Right now, he’s clinging to Saitama, and coping with his past in an unhealthy way. While he is compassionate, kind, and courageous to a fault, he isn’t emotional ready to give his heart away just yet. Maybe in a couple years, when he matures and he either gets his closure on the Mad Cyborg situations, or accepts it, deals with his grief, and moves on.

Flashy Flash (2.5/10): Yeah, no. If we’re talking about trauma, this dude just doesn’t want to accept the fact that he has it, or he knows it, and is too scared to ask for help with it. He’s arrogant, emotionally distant, downright cold sometimes. The only reason he’s higher than Tatsumaki is because I feel like he’d want a relationship in the future, if he actually admits that he needs help, and needs to let go of the past. Then, and only then, can he open himself up to other people. He’s not ready yet.

Tatsumaki (1/10): This girl has emotional issues, is controlling, has extremely high standards, and a shit ton of trauma that all needs addressing before she enters a relationship. Also, she doesn’t cares about those kinds of relationships that much. She’s very take, and never gives. Odds are, she doesn’t want you or anyone in her life. She has a job to do, and that’s what she’s devoted too.

Why would you? (0/10):

Watchdog Man: He’s a dude that acts and dresses like a dog, and doesn’t leave his post. That doesn’t sound super appealing at all, but to each their own, I guess.

Child Emperor: This should be obvious.

Puri Puri Prisoner: If this guy likes you.....RUN

Drive Knight: Are y’all evil Cyborg fuckers?

Metal Knight: He has no sympathy, empathy or compassion. He’s old, and he has a tiny dick. Why?

-----

This post went in so many different directions. Anyway, please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, I love hearing from you all!

*Requests open! Unedited*

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itskateak · 3 years

Text

Mint Ice Cream & Bubblegum Kisses - Chapter Three

(Bucky Barnes x Single Dad!Reader)

Series Summary: Y/N L/N works as an intel specialist at the Avenger’s Compound. He scans chatter on the international - and intergalactic - level for any information that might be helpful to the Avengers and other agents. But he’s also a single father to a beautiful eight-year-old girl: Angelica L/N. It’s tough raising a little girl on his own and working a full-time job, but he’s managing. A promotion has him launched up in rank at the Compound, leading him to work directly with the Avengers team. The only problem is it’s a 24/7 job. Life around the compound gets a little strange when his daughter is added to the mix of enhanced humans and ex-assassins.

Chapter Summary: Angelica seems to be settling in nicely and Y/N is still getting used to having his kid around in his workplace. Especially when she's known to be a little mischievous.

Word Count: 2.6

Warnings: Fluff, pranks, like four swear words, discussion of PTSD but it's very brief. Like very brief.

A/N: this is in light of me recently being able to play Black Widow for work. as I said in the last chapter, things will be moving a lot quicker

Masterlist

Taglist is open! PM me, send an ask, or @ me on a chapter to let me know you’d like to be tagged! Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, but I will send you a message to let you know :)

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Angelica snuck down the hall toward the common room, trying to keep her steps light or as close to silent as she could get them. She resisted the urge to look up at the ceiling, knowing Peter was just above her. This was a new system they were trying out where Angelica went first as a decoy and Peter would follow for the proper scare.

They had a shared love of harmless pranks and therefore had started a small prank war on the other inhabitants of the compound. At first, it had only been against each other, but they figured out that they could do way more if they teamed up.

Y/N had warned them not to do anything too bad, knowing how some of the people in the compound were affected by sudden surprises. He'd sat Angelica down and explained what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was and how what she might perceive as a harmless trick might trigger something or cause a breakdown.

She had understood and in her very solemn way promised to run her more "fear factor" ideas by him first just to be safe. When he did shut down her ideas, she never argued and dropped the plan. Confuse not abuse was their motto.

Y/N, meanwhile, was working in his office, watching text scroll across his screen. There was a lot less than when he worked general intel, but that didn't mean he could focus any less. Any small detail could make or break whether the information was crucial or not. Everything that came across his screen was very important, but some things had to be taken note of.

He had mastered reading and writing at the same time, his shorthand notes making no sense to anyone but him. He'd learned that the week before when he passed the intel off to Tony and he just stared blankly at the paper. Now, he translated his notes so others could understand. Sometimes, he couldn't tell what he was meaning to say.

A transmission from The Benatar came through and he pulled his seat closer. It was just a simple message about their whereabouts and where they were headed. Gamora had signed it off, saying that it was nice to meet him and that whenever they stopped by next, they had to properly meet. He wrote down their message before typing a message in response.

Received. Glad to know you all are safe and having fun up there. Stop by anytime you want. My daughter would be overjoyed to meet all of you.

- Y/N

Y/N leaned back in his chair, taking up a pen to make notes as information on underground movements possibly related to Hydra agents flooded in. More bases had been popping up recently, despite Steve's attempts to drag them all down in the past. Instead of being against the Winter Soldier, though, he was with them. Which gave them the upper hand since he knew their inner workings.

A knock on his office door made him glance up. Bruce stood in the doorframe, his knuckles still against the wood of the door. He gave a shy smile. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all. Come on in, Bruce." Y/N set his pen down and rolled his chair to the end of his desk. "What can I do you for?"

"I just came by to see how you were settling in. We haven't talked much since you were offered the promotion." Bruce sat tentatively on the couch, looking very unsure of himself.

"Things have been going well. It's nice of you to stop by, though." Y/N swiveled back and forth casually. "I like having my own office."

"It's great, huh? I have a whole lab to myself most of the time. Tony invades my space once in a blue moon but he has his own lab somewhere else." Bruce relaxed a little, laughing gently.

"Angelica breaks the peace at least twice a day, but she's my kid so it's not as annoying. Except when I really have to focus. Then I kick her out for a bit." He said with a lopsided grin.

"She wanders into my lab every so often to say hello or ask for help with her science homework. She's lovely." Bruce smiled. "Very bright."

"Yeah, she is...I can't keep up with her at this point. She's going to surpass my skills soon." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Good thing she's got you guys to check her science. I barely passed it in high school."

"Really? I wouldn't have expected that from you." Bruce said.

"I was okay up through my sophomore year but once I hit physics, I lost all understanding. Algebra was never my strong suit, either." Y/N rolled his eyes. Bruce was going to respond when shouting down the hall caught their attention.

Peter sprinted by the office, yelling over his shoulder: "Every man for himself!"

Angelica was a few seconds behind him and she slid into her father's office. "Hide me! Quick!" She slipped around his desk and curled up underneath it.

"Kiddo, what are you doing?" Y/N asked, giving her an amused look.

"Shhhh!" She shushed him and pressed herself into the corner, covering her mouth to hide her giggles.

"Peter Benjamin Parker! Angelica Ellaine L/N! Get your butts back here!" Natasha seemed to be the source of the yelling as she stormed down the hall. She paused at the door to the office, leaning casually in the doorframe. "Hey, boys. You seen a tall spider or a little monster recently?"

Angelica shook her head vigorously in her father's peripheral vision. He pretended not to see her, making sure not to look anywhere close to her location. "Snitches don't get cookies." She whispered as quietly as possible.

"What'd she do now?" Y/N asked. He had to uphold the Code. Snitches don't get cookies, and he'd never betray his daughter.

"She tried to jumpscare me and then Peter swung down from the ceiling and scared the hell out of me." Nat folded her arms over her chest. "So, I'm trying to grab both of them to dump them in the pool."

Y/N laughed and shook his head. "I haven't seen her, except for a few seconds ago. She ran by on Pete's heels."

"Bruce, have you seen them?" Nat turned her gaze to the scientist, who suddenly grew visibly nervous.

"Uh," He glanced at Y/N. "They ran by just a minute ago."

"Uh-huh...Well, I guess I'll just keep looking." Nat pushed off the doorway and started to leave before poking her head back in. "You're still a terrible liar, Bruce." She winked and disappeared.

"Is it safe?" Angelica whispered.

"Yep. Come on out." Y/N rolled back a little bit to give her space to move out. "Good luck out there, kiddo. Watch your back."

"Thank you, Mr. Banner! You deserve a cookie." Angelica smiled at Bruce, the full personification of the smiley-face emoticon. She snuck to the doorway and glanced down the hall before turning the same way Peter had run.

"How long do you think it'll be?" Y/N asked, returning his chair to its proper place.

"Until what?"

His question was answered by a scream from down the hall that devolved into squealing laughter. There was some indiscernible shouting from three different people.

"Until Nat caught her at the corner." Y/N watched as Nat went running by, laughing, with Angelica thrown over her shoulder.

"Peter! Help! She got me!" Angelica yelled through giggles, hand extended out behind Nat's back.

"Angelica! No!" Peter followed, reaching for her. "Nat, give her back!"

Y/N shook his head fondly as the chaos grew quieter the farther they got. "We're settling in well, as you can see. She's making friends and creating chaos. I'd be worried if she wasn't."

"Did she always play pranks on you?" Bruce asked, smiling uncontrollably.

"On more than one occasion, I found shaving cream in my shoes." Y/N wrinkled his nose up at the memories. He had hated that feeling of shaving cream squeezing between his toes in his socks.

"Gross. She and Peter were bound to get along well, then." Bruce glanced at the clock and got to his feet. "I should let you get back to work. If Angelica has a science or math question, you can totally send her to me."

"Thanks, Bruce. You're a genius." Y/N rolled back over to his work station, shaking his mouse to wake his computer up.

"I wouldn't say that," Bruce said as he walked backward out of the room, pausing in the doorway.

"Don't sell yourself short, Bruce! You're totally a genius." Y/N pointed with his pen, smiling as he spoke.

Bruce ducked his head sheepishly and nodded before he left the office.

Y/N returned to his screen, pulling his notes back into reach, and scanned the text again. Another couple of hours before lunch.

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"Your kid." Tony suddenly popped in, holding his phone out to show Y/N what was on it. "Your kid keeps changing my phone background."

Y/N looked up and glanced at the screen before bursting into laughter. It was a photo of a sloth dressed as an astronaut. In the past year, she'd managed to change her father's phone background and laptop wallpaper to that stupid sloth photo without his knowledge at least sixteen times.

"Why?" Tony asked, defeated. "Why is she doing this?"

"She read about someone online who did the same thing to their parents and she took inspiration. I'm happy to see she's moved on to other targets." Y/N shook his head in amusement. "Shouldn't your phone be super secure or something?"

"It is! I don't understand how she keeps doing it. I've changed my password eight times and even had Friday monitor any attempts to hack in." Tony sank down onto the couch, tossing his phone beside him.

"Well, she definitely can't hack things. She's smart, but not that smart. Usually, a password change will keep her from trying again." Y/N swiveled to the side, head cocked.

"This is the second time today," Tony grumbled, brows furrowed. "I don't get it."

"Well, you're the genius here." Y/N snorted, glancing at his screen again. "If my kid's not the one hacking your phone, who is?"

"Oh, my god," Tony said, standing quickly. He rushed to leave but paused in the door. "You're the genius, Y/N."

Y/N arched a brow in mild intrigue. "Uh-huh. You're welcome?"

Tony flashed a smile before turning. "Peter Benjamin Parker, how many times have I told you not to hack into my stuff!" He shouted as he walked down the hall.

"Kid, you're sowing chaos." Y/N glanced at his daughter curled up under his desk.

"Huh?" Angelica looked up from her book, confused. "What's going on?"

"Peter hacked Tony's phone and changed his phone background to that astronaut sloth." He responded, returning to his work.

"Oh, Pete didn't do that." She said, turning her page. "Mr. Banner did after seeing us do it. Somethin' about getting back at him for leaving crumbs all over his lab."

Distant yelling floated down the hall to the office. High-pitched 'Mr. Stark, it wasn't me!'s were the only things that could be properly made out. Angelica made eye-contact with her father.

"Should I?" She asked.

"Nah." Y/N said and they both started to snicker. "He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

Angelica giggled and returned her attention to her book.

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Y/N pulled himself out of the pool, shaking his head to fling water off his face. He hadn't gotten to use the facilities yet since they moved in. The pool was really nice - way better than any of the public pools he'd been to. He used to swim once a week but work got in the way. Now that it was Sunday, he could enjoy the free access for as long as he wanted.

He grabbed a towel, dried his hair and face, and walked to the locker room. His shirt was folded up on a bench with his shoes sitting beside it. He dried the rest of his body off and pulled his shirt on. He slipped his feet into his shoes and froze.

"Dammit, Angelica!" Y/N shouted as shaving cream seeped between his toes and spilled over the top of his feet. He grimaced and kicked his shoes off, quickly wiping the shaving cream off. He picked up his shoes and went storming off to find his daughter.

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"Hey, Y/N. Sorry to intrude after hours." Sam knocked on the doorframe to his bedroom.

"Hey, Sam. No worries." Y/N looked up from his book and set it aside. "What's up?"

"Bucky and Steve are coming back really early tomorrow morning. Like, three in the morning early." He wrinkled his nose up. "They might have sensitive intel from their raid so Tony's asked you to be in office by the time they get back."

"I won't yell at you since you're just the messenger, but really?!" Y/N groaned, running a hand over his face. If he wasn't a morning person before, he surely wouldn't be a happy camper at such an early hour. "Guess my plans to stay up reading have been shot."

"Sorry, man. It's what the boss wants. But really, blame Barnes because he wanted to get back as soon as possible." Sam crossed his arms and shrugged. "Always his fault if somethin' goes wrong. Man brings bad luck wherever he goes."

"I think that's a little harsh and biased. I haven't even met the guy, yet." Y/N leaned over to set his book on the nightstand. He snagged his phone and started to set an alarm or two for the morning.

"I'm sure you've heard all the rumors. Some of them are true - about him being grouchy and an anti-social person - but a good majority of the rumors is just scuttlebutt. Er, gossip. He's got a good heart, but man he can be annoying as hell," Sam smiled fondly, though he tried not to look it.

"Sounds about right," Y/N chuckled, sliding his charging phone underneath his pillow.

"He's really slow to trust and open up, so if he's a little closed off and rough around the edges, it's not you. It's all him, so don't worry." Sam explained. "Might want to ease him into meeting the little rascal, though. He's skittish on his bad days and after missions."

"I took the liberty of reading over all of the team's files so I get why. Thanks for letting me know. I should get some sleep so I'm not as grumpy in the morning when I greet them." Y/N yawned on accident, covering his mouth with his hand.

"No problem. I'll let you get some rest." Sam reached forward and closed the door as he left.

Y/N turned out the light and sank down in bed, drawing the covers up. He had at least four extra blankets just for the weight. He liked having the excess weight since it made him feel secure and grounded.

"Hey, Friday?"

"Yes, Mr. L/N?"

"If I don't wake up from my alarms, please wake me."

"Of course."

Y/N fell asleep shortly afterward, not fully aware of how tired he had been. Moving and getting used to the new environment had really taken it out of him and his body was begging to catch up. A shame he'd only get five hours before being dragged from bed. That was going to be one of the very few downsides of this new job.

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Taglist- @supernaturalwintersoldier @shadowolf993 @myybebe

#mint ice cream & bubblegum kisses #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x single dad!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

The Angel of Death Pt35

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

“Fine. Would you tell us what you’re planning then?” Adrien’s voice was pleading and she didn’t understand why until she looked at Chloe. The girl was still obviously distraught. Tris just frowned at them both.

“Telling you puts us all in more danger. It’s best that you don’t know of my actions, especially beforehand. I’m going to do what I need to to keep the Miraculous and all of you safe. That’s really all you need to know.”

“Maybe we could help if you’d let us.” Chloe’s mumbled words sounded petulant and Tris just sighed.

“Chloe, I’m an assassin. Not only is helping me in any way illegal, I’m not about to pull anyone else into that life. Certainly not either of you. If I learn anything that affects you or your safety I’ll tell you. Otherwise it’s best you two pretend that yesterday never happened.” Their shared look told her that wasn’t likely to happen but hopefully they would just keep it between them.

“Fine. But if anything happens to you I’ll kill you myself.” Tris felt a smile tug at her lips at Chloe’s declaration. “If you’re not doing anything we’re going to have a movie and snack marathon the rest of the day. You should join so you can get part of the real ‘teenage experience.’” Adrien was bouncing excitedly beside her and even Chloe seemed happy with the thought for all she was mocking it. Tris thought about it for a moment. All her preparation was in motion and she didn’t have to check on anything, so why not?

“Okay, but only if I can use my own snacks. The ones you guys have have zero nutritional value and honestly just make me nauseous if I eat more than a little bit.” Adrien gasped in mock offense but Chloe just rolled her eyes.

“They’re not supposed to have nutritional value. That’s the point. But if it will get you out there on that couch with us, fine. Bring your protein bars or whatever other horrible tasting crap you have in here.” All of them had been making fun of her diet since the day she got there. It was carefully constructed to give her the nutrients and energy she needed to train and do her job. Taste wasn’t a factor and they seemed to take issue with it. It was kind of like them always asking her what she wanted. She didn’t understand why it mattered. Before she could respond however the two grabbed her arms and hulled her out into the living room with them.

“Movie night! Luka gets to pick since it’s Tris’s first time. Otherwise we’ll spend the entire night arguing over what to watch.” Chloe’s brusk words earned a raised eyebrow from Kagami but Luka just smiled and shrugged.

“Sure Chloe. So Tris what kind of movies do you like?"

"Don’t know. I haven't watched any since I was seven, and I don't remember much about those." And there was the pity and horror again. Everyone except Kagami was looking at her like she’d been deprived of one of life's basic necessities. It was going to be a long night.

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Three hours and two movies later, Tris was wedged between Chloe and Kagami, Luka was on Chloe’s other side, and Adrien was sprawled across everyone's laps.

"I still don’t understand the point of this. It’s not educational in any way, and it didn’t even make sense most of the time." Luka and Adrien both looked highly offended.

“It’s entertainment! It’s not supposed to be educational because it’s how you destress. It’s just supposed to be fun.” Tris frowned at Adrien and would have argued with him but Kagami leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“I agree with you but the more you fight them on this the more of your time they’ll take up trying to prove their point. Better one night every few weeks than one movie every night until they decide you get it.” Tris shot the girl a consoling look. Every night? She was already bored out of her mind so if this became a daily occurrence chances were high someone would get stabbed.

“I guess these just weren’t my type of movie then.” The other three started making suggestions of different types of movie they could try next and Tris realized that probably wasn’t the best response.

“How about a compromise?” Kagami’s calm voice managed to make the others pause. “You three can watch for entertainment and Tris and I can critique the lack of realism and blatant factual errors. That way we all enjoy ourselves.” The boys looked absolutely betrayed but Chloe just shrugged.

“Only if you do it quietly so you don’t ruin it for the rest of us.” She stuck out a hand to shake and Kagami took it.

“Deal.”

“I can’t believe you don’t like movies. What is wrong with you two?” Kagami just shrugged at Adrien’s hurt tone.

“Escapism was highly discouraged when I was young. You have to deal with life and there’s no point putting it off with mindless drivel. All that does is waste time.” Tris was nodding along to the explanation. Using such methods to ignore your problems simply created more problems. She didn’t understand why everyone found that concept so hard to grasp.

“You’re both missing out. If you can’t enjoy life, what’s the point of living?” Luka’s question caused Tris to frown. There were millions of people around the world who didn’t enjoy life but still managed to be productive. Besides, once you’ve seen the worst of humanity and suffering, it seemed wrong to enjoy something that so many others can’t. She also didn’t deserve to enjoy life after everything she’d done, but that was another matter entirely.

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

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#maribat #assassin mari #kidnapped au #trying to be a teenager #marinette dupain cheng

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nexuschampion · 3 years

Text

@accioturtur so I’m just trying to do other creative things while I’m working on this art thing so yeah. sorry. more timeline shenanigans. At this point the might eventually they might need a moment to come back together and share their trauma.

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

"Avast! Gunner! Where be thee?"

"Here M'lady. In the dungbie as usual. Would you wish to see mine?" a shouted response came from near the back of the boat.

"Funny, Gunner. As usual. Have you no new jokes?"

"I have all the jokes M'lady but material is sparse on the open sea." He laughed as he made his way to her at the middle.

"Were there tools to keep us safe in the flotsam?"

"No M'lady. But there was plenty of rum."

"It'll sell. How many times have I told you I am yer Captain and to address me so?"

"Many M'lady. I am hoping you request a personal punishment to allow me to make it up to you."

"Cheeky. You're lucky I like you Gunner."

"Perhaps you could address me by my name as reward?"

She glared at him, betraying her mood with the smallest of smiles.

"Ye be cocky Gunner. Stick to yer job."

His brows furrowed. "Aye Captain. I am concerned about our current mission's success."

She paused, then nodded. "Go ahead."

"We are heading to the coast with booty and a plan for ye chosen charity aye?"

She nodded. "Aye. A cohort of women used and abused. Women whom I've come to know as skilled and wise though weak or scared. They deserve relief."

He hesitated. Never a good sign.

"Spit it out Gunner."

"They will not be so easily saved. We do not have enough arms to protect ye in yer charge and booty will not help them overcome their situations for long."

"Hmph. If they need release we are capable of transport to the north. But I have ye. I do not need mounds of weaponry."

He flushed. "I am your humble servant, Captain. But ye have too much faith in me."

"Gunner, who has always managed to bring us out on top? Making sure my wild plans of justice are carried out? Be it cannons? Gunpowder?"

"Sometimes."

"Yer humilty tires me. Our success lies squarely on yer shoulders not with guns."

"Muscle does not guarantee success."

"Yer muscle and skill may."

"Not every time."

"Strategy then. Ye have yet to let me down."

"I do not wish to, ever." His eyes met hers. "But I fear this mission may bring that to pass."

She paused. "To my quarters, Gunner. Clearly ye wish to discuss the matter."

He nodded and followed her to her room. Once alone he dropped his pretenses.

"Captain, Shadow... I am afraid this is too much. I cannot guarantee yer safety if ye lead this charge."

"When has me safety been a factor in me missions?"

"Never. Which is why it be mine. I will not engage in anything that threatens yer livelyhood. Yer safety."

"Ye are my Gunner. Ye will do as I ask."

"Not if it means I lose ye."

Their eyes met again.

"Ye will do as I order."

"Aye, M'lady. And everything in me power to keep ye alive."

"This mission is about forgotten women, Michael. Not an army. No one will be forfeiting their lives over them."

He shuffled his feet, staring at the ground as he blinked fiercely. He looked back up at her with a miserable expression. Shadow narrowed her eyes at him.

"I am no helpless wench, Gunner."

His eyes flashed. "No! Of course not!"

"Then?"

"I've known these men. Pride drives them. A woman liberating their whores would be the highest insult. Vengeance is guaranteed."

"So leave me out of it. Ye shall run this mission on yer own."

Eyes met again, this time in confusion on his part. "Ye wish me to override the Quartermaster?"

"No....I just think ye are capable."

"Yes. On me own."

"Michael I will not send ye to do this alone."

"And I will do it no other way, my Captain. I am not going to risk ye, or any of yer crew, for something that will follow them til death."

"These women have no worth in the eyes of these men! How are ye so sure there would be such a response? We've angered hundreds who seek us to this day, why is this different?"

"I told ye. I know them. They will be relentless if they know it was yer idea. And these women deserve a chance, not five minutes of freedom before they are snatched up again."

Shadow huffed indignantly. "Why do ye always have to do this?"

He closed the distance between them and gently touched his hand to her elbow. "You know why."

She sighed and leaned into him. "Aye. I do. Yer a good friend Michael."

"I know this is important to ye. Let me go alone. Please. If they see me alone they'll just think I'm a scalleywag for takin' em to have a good time for meself and not tie the plunder to ye. They aren't likely to challenge me and don't know the extent of me loyalties to ye."

"All right. I concede. Ye can go alone." They stayed there for a moment before she pulled away, flushing slightly. "But if ye don't bring back all 10 of those women I'll have yer shell!"

"Aye aye Captain." he grinned.

"And ye best not try to have a good time with the women either."

"Good times for me are only a good game of Whist with M'lady."

“Hah! For all yer uniqueness ye are a stick in the mud Gunner. I will have to show ye a real good time someday.”

“Someday” he grinned. “I’d like that.”

#accioturtur:timelines

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your-wings-of-freedom · 4 years

Text

“Mom?”

Authors Note: Levi Solo (Sorry x Reader lovers!) This was going somewhere and then it wasn’t. It’s been stuck in my head so I wanted to get this out of the way before I get to my requests. This was actually such a challenge to write TT^TT Words: 1,905 Summary: If Levi had a chance to speak to his Mom again.

‘…What the hell?’ Steel grey orbs cast their gaze over a set of shelves that had a nice display of different matching sets of teacups and teapots, as his eyes continued to sweep across the room, on the wall opposite was a set of shelves that housed a decent array of tea leaves. ‘What is this?’ He seemed to be in an empty teashop. Not a bad place to be if you asked him. But how did he get here? What the hell was he doing here? Had he died? Is this what the after-life looked like? Tch. He couldn’t decide whether it was a decent replacement of ‘heaven’ or not. A quaint teashop didn’t sound all that bad… but it still begged the question of what the hell was going on? Is this a dream? It feels different than a dream. His dreams…well… he didn’t dream. He had nightmares. He glanced down and found his was still in his uniform, minus the green cape that proudly wore the emblem they stood for, and the heavy weight of the ODM gear. Still, he wore the brown jacket with the Wings of Freedom patches proudly on display on the upper arms of the jacket. Even without the ODM gear, he still wore the straps and boots that came with the uniform, signature cravat too. Luckily for him, he was in pristine condition; not even a speck of dust on his uniform. Impeccably clean.

“Hi Baby.”

His head snapped up from inspecting his uniform, grey eyes widening at the sound of a voice behind him, lips parted as a shaky gasp fell past. It can’t be. He knew that voice. He spent quiet moments in the late hours of the night (or early hours of the morning) fearing he was beginning to forget what that voice sounded like. But he could never forget. It was full of what this world was robbed of; purity, sweetness, beauty, comfort. Head still face forwards, his orbs travelled sideways, managing to catch a glimpse of a long flow of raven locks. While it couldn’t exactly confirm anything, there was no denying that it only added to the list of key factors. He was too scared to turn around. Heh. Could you believe it? A boy who lost someone he loved so much, had the opportunity to talk to them, and now he couldn’t find it in himself to turn around. Could you blame him though? The shit that he’s seen, that he’s gone through… this almost feels like it’s a cruel joke. That he’s going to turn around and find someone else, or something else. The rapid beating of his heart worked in overdrive as his lungs stopped working, unable to breathe, he swore he could hear the blood rushing through his veins in his ears as he finally turned around and his steel grey eyes rested upon one of the most beautiful women who ever graced his life. “Mom?” a man in his thirties asked the question like a scared a little child. The woman, his mom, let out the softest, sweetest sound of laughter he’d ever heard. Genuinely having forgotten what her laughter had sounded. He watched as her eyes closed when her smile reached those twinkling orbs, lips that produced one of the most beautiful smiles were pulled back to show a set of gleaming white teeth, long locks of raven hair swayed slightly with the sound of laughter from her. “You’ve grown into quite the handsome young man.” Part of him wanted to run to her, touch her, hug her, make sure she’s real and not just a figment of his imagination, or some cruel trick. But he stayed where he was, and she made no attempts to move closer to him, sensing the hesitancy within him. A mother’s intuition never dies.

He glanced around the tea-shop, taking it in before his eyes cast back on the woman before him. “…Am I dead?” Her smile of laughter dropped to a more gentle smile, “No, baby. It’s not your time. You’re only dreaming.” He’s dreaming of his mother in a tea-shop of all places? The hell? Why here? Why not in a field of flowers where there’s blue sky and a warm sun? The thing he longed to be able to give his mom and yet they were still stuck in a room full of walls? He took a few steps to glance outside the window of the teashop, surprised to see a blue sky up above them with the odd bird flying by. So, they weren’t in the underground then? Good. It’d be a really shitty dream if that were the case – to have his mom here still stuck underground. His gaze dropped from looking at the sky to resting on the street before them, though not really focusing his gaze on something in particular. She was quietly watching him, always having all the patience in the world with him. He really has grown into quite the handsome man. Not exactly the hairstyle she would have chosen for him but it suited him well.

“You look sad Levi.” Her soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts and his eyes cast back over to her. He stared at her for a good few moments. The waves of emotion crashing in those grey orbs of his; trying to remain suspicious of his ‘mother’, thinking it’s nothing more than a cruel joke – almost expecting a titan to appear, but quickly losing the fight because he just wants his mom. Then there’s so much he wants to say to her but he can’t find the right words, and so much has happened – the majority of it comes from a copious amount of lives lost beneath his command and - “Don’t, sweetheart. Don’t do that to yourself.” She suddenly interrupted his train of thought, reading him like a book. “Do what?” It was probably stupid to play dumb but he did so anyway. He didn’t want to worry her, or fill her with all the negative shit he deals with on a daily basis. This is his mom. He didn’t want to drag her down. Steel eyes hardened as he tried to cover up the wave of emotions washing over him, but failed to do so under his mother’s gaze. “Blame yourself. None of it was your fault.”

His lips parted to argue against her but words failed upon him. Especially when his gaze met his mother’s and she knowingly stared back at him. He couldn’t help but buckle beneath it. So he chose to remain silent, knowing if he didn’t, his voice would give away just how much he was truly struggling. “I’ve watched you make some of the toughest decisions, Levi. I’ve watched you force yourself to do things you didn’t want to do for the sake of achieving a greater success. No regrets, remember? Isn’t that what you said? I’ve watched you lose people and carry the weight of that burden upon your shoulders. You feel their loss and you carry it heavily in your heart while putting on a strong face. No one else has that kind of strength. I watch how you still manage to carry your comrades through it all, despite all of what has been lost. ‘Humanity’s Strongest’ – I believe it.” This earned Levi’s typical ‘Tch’ scoff, which made his Mom smile slightly in amusement before it softened to a genuine smile, “I’m proud of you Levi. I’m so, so proud.” His eyes had long since trailed off his Mom as he stared at one of the chairs, listening to her words, but they snapped up when she said she was proud of him. What the hell was there anything to be proud of? And out came one of the deepest fears he carries with him on a daily basis. “I couldn’t protect them. I couldn’t protect you!” “Oh sweetheart…” Narrowed grey eyes watched as his Mom moved from where she was standing, now that Levi didn’t seem overly suspicious or hostile, and walked over to him, cupping his face in her hands. His eyes widened at how gentle and soft her touch was. Not realizing, until now, just how much he had truly missed everything about her.

“I wanted to get you out of that wretched place. I wanted you see the sunlight, feel it on your skin.” She smiled softly at him, her gaze adoringly held his. What did she do to deserve such a kind-hearted son? Her thumb softly caressed his cheek, “I do, Levi. Every time you ride out and look up at the sky, I see it through your eyes. Don’t ever stop cherishing those small moments. You suffer so much pain, I don’t want you to lose sight of the little moments that matter.” She pulled him into the warmest embrace he’s ever felt - then again, he’s not exactly the hugging, physical-affection type of guy, but in this moment he melted beneath her embrace. His arms wrapping around her and burying his face in her neck, where she also tucked him in, her cheek resting upon his raven locks. His eyes fluttered shut at the warmth and peace that enveloped him. The smell of jasmine overcoming his senses, was this his Mom’s preferred smell? She never had such luxuries like perfume. If she smelt like Jasmine… he must start remembering to keep an eye out for some. He felt his Mom’s arms tighten ever so slightly around him. Suddenly everything felt alright. Safe. He’s never had that feeling before. “…I miss you Mom. I wish you were here.” He whispered, fingers gripping her a little bit tighter, too scared to let her go. He felt her move ever so slightly as she pressed her lips to his head in a tender kiss, whispering back, “I’m always here baby.”

A lone tear slid down his cheek. He missed her. He missed her so much. He often wondered whether his Mom would have been proud of him, or disappointed in him. But she was nothing but supportive, loving, encouraging, empathetic. Just how he remembered her to be. She may not have had the most glamourous job underground, but that never stopped Levi in believing her to be one of the most graceful souls he’s ever known.

Light faded to dark as he stirred awake, feeling the tear slip down his cheek. It wasn’t often he fell asleep for a long period of time to the point where the candle was almost dying out. Still, it made a nice change to dream about his Mom rather than be riddled with nightmares. Rubbing his sleeve against his cheek to the wipe the tear away, he stood up from the desk and stretched his limbs out from being slumped over the desk too long. Suppose he was lucky that the dream didn’t last too long otherwise his Mom would’ve reprimanded him for his bad habits. Probably even worse when it came to the shit that comes out of his mouth sometimes. And also how he could be a little more lenient on the kids.

He walked over to the window and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he glanced up at the night sky where the stars shimmered like diamonds and the moon shone brightly. ‘…Every time you look up at the sky, I see it through your eyes….’

Okay Mom.

End Note: Might do one for Petra. Have Levi tell her he loves her or whatever. Depends on how well-received this fic is and whether or not readers consider it slightly too out of character (which I won’t take offence. I tried to keep him in character but he’s also quite complex).

Also my lil HC is that Jasmine reminds him of his Mom. I imagine that she wouldn’t have a lot of access to any nice smelling perfume underground, or if at all, but IF she did, I feel like Jasmine would have been her scent.

Reviews/thoughts would definitely be appreciated ^^”

#Levi Ackerman x Reader #Levi x Reader #Levi Comfort #Levi Requests Open #kuchel ackerman #Kuchel x Levi #Levi Ackerman Dreams #Levi Ackerman Mom #your-wings-of-freedom

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scarabbai · 4 years

Note

What the- i swear I thought I was following you for a long time- I just saw that it wasn't the case smh. Your rr au literally fascinates me. Like I have always had the idea if how they would be in an rr situation. So about this childhood incident you mentioned, what is it. Can I know?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LIKING MY AU (🥺) AND DW, YOUVE ACTUALLY BEEN FOLLOWING FOR A WHILE! Tumblr has a tendency to say you’re not following when you’ve most definitely been following the whole time for some reason??

As for the childhood incident, yes! I might write some of the scenes I’m about to mention in more detail later, but I’ll share what happened now since it’s really important in defining role reversed Jamil and Kalim’s current relationship. It also provides an important glimpse into what it used to be.

(Full story under the cut bc SERIOUSLY I went WAY overboard and it’s super long OTL)

When Kalim and Jamil first met, they weren’t anything close to friends. In fact, they barely got along. Their first meeting happened because Kalim was handpicked by Jamil’s father for his notable loyalty and dedication to the Vipers at his young age and introduced—more like presented—to Jamil as his new playmate and personal servant. Basically, it was Kalim’s job to be—or at least act as—Jamil’s friend.

Even at that young age, Jamil was a stuck up sourpuss who had already developed the nasty habit of looking down on others. After all, he was rich, spoiled, and practically a little prodigy. Nobody he met was ever at his level, and it’s not like he was ever taught humility. Naturally, he drove away practically everyone his own age and therefore didn’t have any friends. This concerned Jamil’s father and thus Kalim was brought into the picture. However, an important thing to note is that Jamil also happens to have a rebellious streak. He hates being coddled and is already very frustrated with his father’s constant attempts to keep him safe (with bodyguards, babysitters, etc) since he feels like he’s “being babied.” Bc of this, he’s very skeptical upon Kalim’s arrival, accuses him of being some other kind of guard in disguise, and is just generally very rude to him.

Obviously that doesn’t sit well with Kalim and they end up bickering for a while (“I’m not a liar!” “Yes you are!”) before Kalim finally catches Jamil’s attention by admitting he isn’t that great with magic yet. This leads to them both calming down and talking about all the stuff in Jamil’s room, which then prompts Jamil to kinda show off his skills in magic as well as his belongings. Jamil’s father checks in on them and sees Kalim cheering Jamil on as he’s showing him a spell he learned, which gets Kalim officially approved to stay by Jamil’s side for the foreseeable future. They still aren’t proper friends at this point, though. Jamil gets annoyed by Kalim’s presence bc it’s a reminder that his dad is still trying to “run his life” by looking out for him, and Kalim is lowkey having second thoughts about this whole “important job” thing bc Jamil’s kinda mean...

Eventually they become more comfortable with each other’s presence, but they still aren’t really friends. They end up with more of a “mastermind and henchmen” dynamic instead, with Jamil leading them both into trouble while Kalim gets the short end of the stick as the (not very believable, so he never actually gets punished) scapegoat of most of Jamil’s schemes. By this point, Kalim has kinda just accepted that this is gonna be the way things are and doesn’t really question it, and Jamil stops seeing Kalim as a nuisance and more like a source of entertainment, praise, etc. Basically Jamil pushes Kalim around bc he knows he can get away with it and bc Kalim will always tell him what he wants to hear. Fun for Jamil! Not so fun for Kalim. This goes on for some time.

About several months to a year or so later, a festival in the city is announced. Being very sheltered and restricted his whole life, Jamil really wants to get out there and see the activities and events that are going to be hosted (especially the dancing! He’s super interested in all the different types of dance that’ll be showcased at the festival). However, his dad comes in the night before the festival and forbids Jamil from going bc “there’s too many people and it’ll be dangerous,” not revealing that he’s heard news of the family’s enemies in the area. Knowing his son is a little schemer but also that he’ll be very upset, he calls Kalim in to stay with Jamil for the rest of the night and the next day not only to make sure he won’t try anything but also to hopefully cheer him up.

Despite knowing full well that orders from his dad > his own wishes and that Kalim has to listen to his dad over him since his dad outclasses him in authority, Jamil’s bitter enough to poke the hornet’s nest and try to bait Kalim into helping him sneak out anyway. In doing so, he pulls some pretty guilt trippy stuff and whines about how he clearly doesn’t have any “real friends” since “real friends” help each other do stupid stuff like sneaking out. He doesn’t expect this to work at all given Kalim’s strict adherence to authority and rules, but he does it anyway bc taking out his frustration over his father’s actions on Kalim is easier than just quietly accepting his dad’s attempt to protect him.

Jamil ends up severely underestimating three very important factors:

Kalim’s own desire to go to the festival

How much his happiness matters to Kalim

The fact that Kalim actually does see him as a friend/hopes they can be true friends

Kalim gets pretty quiet for the rest of the night, and when his required time keeping Jamil company is up, he leaves the room without a word. This makes Jamil all disappointed and kinda upset with himself bc he thinks he’s gonna get ratted out, but nothing ends up happening. The next morning, Kalim shows up to Jamil’s room with two sets of casual clothes from his own wardrobe in his hands and a smile on his face. To Jamil’s utter shock (Kalim has never gone against orders before, especially ones directly from his dad), Kalim explains that he used his usual credibility to his advantage and managed to lie his way to a perfect cover for the both of them, and if they leave now nobody will notice until they’re long gone. He broke the rules for the sake of Jamil’s happiness, and that’s a gesture that means so much to them both it makes Jamil feel kinda funny.

He brushes it off though bc this is his moment! This is the chance he’s been waiting for, and all the different plans and ways to sneak out he thought of while lying awake the night before can finally be put into action with Kalim’s help! With the combined power of Jamil’s strategic thinking and some extra strength/height boosts from Kalim, they manage to make it off the property with the others none the wiser. In order to keep things lowkey, they’re both dressed in the casual clothes Kalim brought, and Jamil has Kalim stop addressing him as “Master Viper/Master Jamil” for the time being so they just seem like two regular kids instead of the Viper heir and his servant. It’s just a small, temporary thing, and Jamil doesn’t even pay it any mind, but it turns out to be a very important equalizing factor for them both. Suddenly, their social standings aren’t nearly as skewed.

Jamil knows exactly what he wants to do at the festival and fully expects things to go his way the whole time, but when they arrive, he sees something he never expected to, and it causes him to forget about his schedule and all the things he was gonna immediately drag Kalim to see and do:

Standing in the sun and in the thick of all the lively activity, Kalim is practically glowing with excitement, flourishing in the crowds and people, his face lighting up in a way Jamil has never seen in the year or so they’ve known each other. He’s so happy and alive and it throws Jamil off completely bc he’s never seen Kalim THIS joyful before. He’s never seen Kalim in his natural element even though they see each other almost every day.

Seeing this change in Kalim leaves Jamil stunned long enough for Kalim to get ahead of himself in excitement and grab Jamil’s hand to pull him along and see all the stalls and colorful sights and gawk and admire all the things they have for sale, things that Kalim knows he can’t afford but wow isn’t it nice to see all these things anyway even if he can’t have them (even if he wishes he could have them) and he’s so starry eyed and he’s pointing out things to Jamil who is still struck by this liveliness in Kalim that he’s never seen before, so shocked and entranced by the life in Kalim’s eyes and the way he’s speaking so fast that his words almost blend together that he reaches into his pocket and pays for each and every trinket Kalim stares longingly at just to keep on seeing his smile, just to see the way Kalim brightens up and jumps up and down with excitement and gratitude (“thank you Jamil-sama, thank you thank you thank you!”) and he lets Kalim be the star of the show for the very first time, lets him be the one in charge of the schedule, following him here and there as Kalim sees something that grabs his attention and then they’re both off like a jet, Kalim weaving through crowds like an expert while Jamil tags along clumsily behind, singing and laughing and there’s this one moment, one magical moment when Kalim stops at a stand selling coconut juice and when he mentions it’s his favorite drink, his favorite flavor ever, Jamil buys them both one coconut each without hesitation, watching as Kalim enjoys his drink like it’s the best thing in the whole entire world (and watching Kalim, he could almost think it was too, even if he doesn’t like it nearly as much) and wonders how in the world he managed to mess up so badly to know someone for so long and still never know his favorite food, to see each other every day but never once see Kalim like this, with so much joy, and Jamil stands there, sipping his coconut juice as Kalim sings and dances in place as they watch a concert performance together, wondering where he went so wrong, wondering when he forgot Kalim was a real person, wondering if he ever realized Kalim lived and breathed and had feelings.

It’s the wakeup call Jamil didn’t know he needed. He realizes for the first time how little Kalim gets to have some fun of his own whenever they play together, how he’s always the one dragging Kalim into messy situations, how Kalim may have been kinda happy when they’re together but clearly he’s never been truly happy in all of the time they’ve spent together, how Kalim is a real friend who cares and puts up with so much while Jamil has been nothing but a bully and an asshole.

As the sun sets and he and Kalim are heading back to the estate, Jamil thinks about this a lot. He feels extremely guilty over his shitty attitude and resolves to do better, to be proper friends with Kalim, to be nicer and kinder and to appreciate the people and things he has in his life. He’s going to fix things. He’s going to do it right from now on.

Unfortunately for them both, Jamil is too lost in thought to notice that someone else has noticed him.

The next sequence of events is a blur to Jamil. One moment he’s walking through a less populated street side by side with a friend he’s wronged, and the next, said friend is pushing Jamil out of the way as some rando swipes at him. They both land in a heap on the floor, but adrenaline gives Kalim the speed to recover, grab Jamil’s hand, and make a break for it before the person can make another attempt at grabbing them. Jamil’s too disoriented and in too close a range to prepare a good enough spell to get the person off their tail, so they’re both in big trouble as they run through shortcuts and alleyways to get home faster while their pursuer is hot on their heels. Eventually their luck runs out, and the person catches up to them.

Kalim is no bodyguard, but he still throws himself between Jamil and the attacker to protect him. It’s two little kids against one adult. The way the person looms over them is terrifying, they’re both shaking, Jamil is on the floor bc Kalim pushed him too hard when he tried to tell him to just leave him behind and run for it, and Kalim himself is screaming his poor lungs out, crying for help in hopes that he’ll catch the attention of the people milling about. He does, but not before he takes a severe blow to the head and goes down hard. With the help of both some alarmed bystanders and a blast of Jamil’s tearful, rage-fueled magic (“NO!! KALIM!!! KALIM!!!”), the pursuer gets taken out and the bystanders, who recognize who Jamil is, contact the authorities and his family. They stay with him while Jamil hugs Kalim’s unconscious body and cries his eyes out bc this wasn’t supposed to happen, he should have listened, Dad was right, he was stupid, he got them both hurt, Kalim isn’t smiling anymore, he won’t open his eyes, there’s so much blood everywhere, there’s so much blood coming from Kalim’s head—

In almost no time at all, Jamil’s dad, some bodyguards, and one of the family’s healers arrive at the scene to find Jamil inconsolable and Kalim injured. Kalim gets some emergency healing from the medic, but his wound is deemed too severe for the magic to be able to reverse all the damage at once and therefore he needs to be rushed back to the manor’s infirmary. Jamil’s dad gently pulls Jamil away from Kalim so he can be taken to properly heal, holding his crying son close as he watches the medic carry away a much too still, much too small body. When they head back to the estate, he picks up his son and carries him the whole way, and Jamil doesn’t even have the energy to interrupt his sobbing to complain. Jamil’s father tries to ignore the blood staining his son’s clothes, the red on his hands, and keeps going. He cleans him up when they get back (and tries, again, not to feel sick as he sees the color of the water) and that night, Jamil is too afraid to sleep in his own room. He reads bedtime story to his son for the first time in a long while, and when Jamil finally falls asleep, curled up with tears still clinging to his eyelashes, Mr. Viper stays awake a little longer to watch over him.

It takes days just for Kalim to open his eyes again, and there’s a new scar waiting for him when he does.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fic #jamil viper #twst jamil #kalim al asim #twst kalim #role reversed au #my stuff #responses

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