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bratkook · 4 years

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like you used to. jjk

“So kill me like you used to...”

part two.

pairing. ex boyfriend!jungkook x reader genre. angst, mentions of smut, toxic exes warnings. very toxic depictions of relationships, hints at infidelity, drunken mistakes, they’re both very toxic for each other and just can’t stay away, brief mentions of smut word count. 2.9k note. this is just a lump of angst that my mind conjured at 1am last night, i just love angst and messy relationships that are destined to fail 😌(its not edited so if u see a typo no u dont)

It always started with a phone call.

Whether it was from you or him always changed. Sometimes he’d get the call at two in the morning, vision blurry as he brought the phone to his face and saw your name illuminated on the screen, that old goofy selfie you had together still set as your contact photo. He’d hesitate for a moment just to keep you on your toes before pressing accept, already getting up and putting pants on because he knew just what you were calling for.

Tonight was your turn to be on the receiving end, laying in bed comfortably as you scrolled through random posts to try to help you sleep, the flash of his face fills your phone, it’s a random close up photo of his eyes staring right into the camera, crinkled up in a smile. Even though his name is changed in your contacts, no longer having the cute bunny emoji tacked to the end, you know you’ll still pick up in a heartbeat. And you do.

The second you press accept you’re met with the familiar sound of his voice, slurred and thick as he speaks so jumbled up you would barely be able to understand him if you didn’t already know what he was saying. It was the same things he always said whenever he got like this, proclamations of love that only cut up your freshly scabbed over wounds, salt rubbing into them when he cries about how he misses you, promises to change.

They get cut off when the phone is yanked away from his grasp, the second familiar voice belonging to his buddy Yugyeom now speaking into the receiver. “You gotta pick him up Y/N.”

The annoyance is evident in his voice, the babbling of Jungkook still heard in the background along with the dull beat of whatever place they were outside of.

“He’s not my responsibility Yugyeom.”

He simply sighs into the phone, staring at his mess of a friend before rubbing his jaw, sore and aching from where he had just been socked after attempting to force him into an uber. “Yeah well he won’t let anyone else take him home, he’s drunk as fuck. I’ll send you the location.”

Not waiting for a response he hangs up and sends you a pin of where they’re at, thrusting the phone back into his friend’s hands before getting into that uber and leaving Jungkook alone while he whines against the dirty bar wall, crouching down onto the filthy sidewalk as the car drove off.

Yugyeom knew you would come to his rescue like you always did, never once saying no and letting Jungkook fend for himself because on the rare occasions where you’d call him drunk and crying he’d do the same.

Getting into the car still dressed in your pajamas, shoes thrown on without being laced up, hair still messy, it felt like routine now from how often it happened. Jungkook called you sober, text you while in a sane state of mind, but without fail at least once a month he’d get absolutely shit faced and call you, leaving you what he thought were heartfelt voicemails if by some chance you didn’t answer.

It was the same bar every time, a bar you used to frequent with him, knowing the location and all the small side streets to get you there without needing directions. Doing this felt like such a normal part of your life it almost made you forget that you and Jungkook weren’t together anymore. It’s been a year since you split and you still find yourself thinking if things could be different.

Would it have been best if you never confessed to each other, never admitted to the small inkling of a crush before it was able to fully blossom? It was hard not to wonder how different life would be now if you had walked away the first time things went south, if he had walked away after the first argument.

Whenever he called you, pulled you in with those drunken promises it was easy to convince yourself that your relationship was perfect, that it was worth all of the struggles. Your brain morphed each fight, each time you cried alone, twisted it around and molded it to make it easier to consume, easier to believe you were meant to be.

You thought you were soulmates, and maybe you were, two people destined to be together, meeting at the wrong time, under the wrong circumstances. What was meant to be perfect puzzle pieces connected had slowly turned into jagged edges that no longer clicked regardless of how hard you tried to jam them together, foolishly thinking you could spill your love into the gaps to mend the spaces, making the pieces whole once more.

Love was never enough.

Love made you stupid, made you blind and gullible, smiling through lies to avoid arguments, going to bed angry until he was hovering over you, coaxing you into forgiveness with soft kisses and gentle touches. It always went this way, regardless of who’s fault it was without fail he’d end up slot between your legs, the only time the puzzle pieces connected perfectly, allowing him to fuck you as if he’d never see you again. Murmurs of love and adoration were passed between panting breaths, sloppy kisses, shared moans to mask the empty promises you made every time.

Staying away from each other was a hard habit to kick, the two of you stuck on an endless game of seesaw, neither of you having the guts to get off and move on. All it took was a simple drunk phone call for you to go his way, the slur of his voice as he cries into the receiver about how much he loved you, missed you, needed you next to him, wanted to try again. It reeled you in so easily, winding you up until you were hauling your sloppy ex boyfriend off the dirty floor and into your small car.

He remembers none of this, he never did, not fully anyways. Small tidbits of words he said flash in his mind as he comes to, drool on his cheek and neck sore from the unfortunate position he had slept in, groggy and unaware of his surroundings.

He knew your apartment too well, recognized the green wall he had helped you paint, now holding endless pictures of you and your friends. None of Jungkook anymore.

All of those photos were gone now, not burned or shredded in some ritual to get over him, simply tucked into a box and shoved so far into your closet you hoped you would forget it. You never did of course, the way the box laid dust free made it clear how often you pulled it out and sorted through the photos whenever you had too much wine, whenever you had off days where you just felt so alone and wished you could go back to the times you had convinced yourself were better. They weren’t, you knew they weren’t once you sobered up and balanced out your emotions.

Jungkook doesn’t feel bothered that not a trace of him remained visible in your home, he knew his presence lingered in the cracks, buried so deep in the crevices of your mind he knew you would always think of him.

He groans softly as his eyes roam the interior of your home, the throbbing in his temples making him stop and shut his lids, not needing to analyze the place he was at less than two weeks ago when you had called him over. Jungkook briefly wonders if he should sneak his way out, not used to waking up on the couch instead of in your bed right beside you, maybe he had said something last night that crossed the line and landed him on the couch as a punishment.

As you finally emerge from your room his plan of escape is put to a stop, his eyes gravitating towards your bedroom door, seeing the way you cautiously step out. Having heard Jungkook wake up since you had already been awake for the past hour, your body not allowing you to sleep while knowing he was in the other room, it took a few minutes of courage before you were able to face him.

Spotting him on your couch shows how much he doesn’t belong, the pinned leather jacket he wore looking so harsh against the light coloring of your furniture, his dark disheveled hair contrasting with the tidy way you organized your apartment. He senses it, the skin crawling sensation that spreads the longer you stare at him, how he felt so out of place somewhere he used to call home at one point.

“Thank you for picking me up.” He chooses to break the silence, voice raspy, his internal self screaming at him for always doing this. His eyes are sincere, genuinely meaning it, knowing just how messy he got when he had too much to drink, how his friends could never handle him when he crossed the line and began to call for you.

Like always his words were routine so he expects it when you huff and say, “You need better friends Jungkook.”

“I know.” Because he did, he knew his friends enabled him, riled him up and once he became too much they pushed him onto you, knowing Jungkook’s grip on you was still too strong for you to ever say no.

“What if I hadn’t picked you up? Would they have left you on the side of the bar to fend for yourself?”

“Probably,” he shrugs, from past experiences he knows very well they would have. His friends had dealt with Jungkook crying over you far too much, their patience fully stamped out, no longer able to tolerate him when he became like this.

Not even realizing when he begins to smile as he thought of the nights you didn’t pick up, how he had ended up in the most random locations because he refused to go home to a place you weren’t, he snaps out of it when you scoff. “It’s not funny Jungkook, you could have gotten hurt or something.”

There it was, the reason you were upset. Not because he had called you and spewed the same bullshit he always did, no that you could tolerate. You were upset, and worried, that you’d get a following call from someone stating he had injured himself while calling for you.

“I know.”

You pause to breathe, his short responses not irking you like it should, arms crossed over your chest as you observe your ex boyfriend still sitting on the couch, looking like a scolded child.

“You can’t call me anymore Jungkook.” How you have the nerve to say that to him is funny, acting as if ten days ago you weren’t the one doing this to him, telling him you missed him, securing your anchor around his foot and dragging him back under with you.

This is the checklist you needed to go down, a formality of the morning after so he doesn’t mind it. Instead he frowns at the way you continue to say his name, the way it rolls off your tongue makes him wince, missing the way you’d call him Kookie, playful pet names like Bunny, something he swore he hated but secretly loved. Jungkook wished he could hear you say it again, humor you with that damned bunny eared headband he’d wear to hear you laugh, squeal as he posed and dance for whatever silly video you recorded as you shouted out the ridiculous nickname.

The last time he heard those words spill out of your mouth had been too long ago.

“I’m sorry.” he admits, he knew he had to stop, couldn’t continue to hold onto the past, knowing how wrong you were for each other but he wasn’t the only one. Those were the same words you told him ten days ago, apologizing with guilty eyes for asking him to come over when you were lonely, needing a familiar body to occupy the space next to you, wanting his hands to soothe you, make you feel whole again just for a night.

Once the sun came up it was back to normal, the two of you having the repeat conversation you had every time, the exact one you were having now. A formality. Nothing more, just mindless words that you would both agree to just to move along, to make you both feel better, more secure with yourself until the next time the phone rang.

Your heart twists in your chest as you look at him, the same toxic love you had for him brewing in your heart, spilling over and burning you but you ignore the pain, convince yourself you don’t feel it as you breathe in. That same rope latches around Jungkook’s ankle as you avert your eyes for a brief second before looking back at him with a small sigh. “Do you want breakfast? I know how you get when you have a hangover.”

He smiles for the first time, charming as always, looking up at you through the subtle waves in his hair. “I probably shouldn’t.”

You know this. He definitely shouldn’t because breakfast will turn into words exchanged, civil at first, flirty the next, a coin flipped to decide if a petty argument would begin or if you’d reminisce about the good times. Regardless of the outcome, what always followed ended with you moaning out his name as he rocked into you, those same empty promises spilling through his lips that you swallowed with a kiss.

A brief moment of bliss, a small dose of the past that only serves to hurt you further but you crave it, loving the small rush that came with arguing, the roughness of his hands as he pushed you around before sliding home, burying his face into your neck as he broke you down all over again.

Normally you’d try to convince him further, but as your mouth opens to protest you get flashes of the night before, how you had carried Jungkook up your flight of stairs, hearing him ramble about nonsense so slurred together you paid it no mind. You would have had him sleep in your bed beside you like you always did but when you fish his phone out and begin to slide his jacket off it buzzes to life.

Always being nosey you type in his password, smiling when you realize it was still your old anniversary but when you unlock it and see a flood of messages from a girl named Natalie, calling him babe, asking where he was, the smile falls from your face as you start to snoop.

It doesn’t take much scrolling through their thread of messages to easily discover she was his girlfriend, blissfully unaware that he was shit faced and calling you, confessing to his love for you while she laid at home and wondered if he was having fun with his friends. She reminded you of yourself, of the way you used to be with him and it left a sour feeling on your tongue.

“Yeah you probably shouldn’t.”

He stands up now, following you slowly as you approach the door, heavy boots thumping on the hardwood as he reluctantly steps closer to the exit. He doesn’t want to leave, wants you to try to convince him to stay, not knowing that you knew the dirty secret he was hiding buried in his phone.

You don’t decide to tell him you know, it was pointless. That was just how Jungkook was wired, so much love to give he had to spread it out, give everyone a fair share of it, choosing to pretend he wasn’t being selfish. It was naive to believe it, to think all the love he held was strictly for you, it was why he was able to pull the hood over your eyes so easily.

Even when you pull the door open and give him a tightlipped smile he knows you’ll still call him, forget all about Natalie when you’re lonely once more. So when you look him in the eyes and sigh, “Goodbye Jungkook.” He knows it’s not for long, maybe a week or so, maybe less.

He simply smiles, stuffing his hands into his jeans as he shuffles out, turning to face you as he steps backwards. “See you later Y/N.” And his words sting in a way he doesn’t mean, knowing just how right he was.

Jungkook would never mind how heavy the anchor you hooked on his ankle was because he knew you would forever be a sucker for him.

As you shut the door behind you it feels like a small weight starts to hang from your shoulders, the same tug starting from your chest, guiding you into your room until you’re pulling out the cursed box and sorting through those damned photos. With stinging eyes you flip through them for a moment, focusing on all the laughs captured on film, blurry vision moving to your phone beside you, hands already itching to call him again.

It’s as if he knows, still inside your building, lingering in the lobby to give you a moment and it doesn’t take long. Once his phone starts to vibrate he smiles, staring at the photo of you as you call him like clockwork. With a clear of his throat he answers the phone, barely saying hello before he hears a small sniffle through the speaker.

“I miss you Kookie.”

Jungkook lets his eyes shut as he presses the elevator button, loving the feeling of being needed by you, already knowing to head back up because this was routine.

“I know you do baby, I’ll be right up.”

And just like that you’re once again desperately trying to make those stupid puzzle pieces fit together, hoping that maybe this time love would be enough.

#ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #heartsforbts #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts angst #jeon jungkook #new

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redvanillabee · 3 years

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Ship Ask Meme: Peggysous Edition

I got a secret ask(?) from someone who should be on hiatus right now asking me to do this ask meme for Peggysous. So here we go!

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa

Hurricane Peggy stops for nothing and no one, let alone a measly little push/pull sign!

When Peggy is on a roll, she misses the push/pull signs. If anything, Peggy is very good at reading the design cues on a door. So when a door with no clearly visible pull bar has to be pulled? That’s on the door and the door designer, not her.

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them

If anyone finds a bunch of old notes with <3 P+D distractedly drawn all over the back, they must be sorely mistaken.

Peggy is a doodler; it helps her focus, and sometimes they are secret little notes to herself. Once she settles into the relationship and when she gets lost in her thoughts, she would doodle, and her subconscious just takes charge and draws little hearts. Once she comes around though, she blushes furiously. Part of her wants to berate herself for behaving like a teenage girl, but really she likes it. That there’s someone who can make her feel all silly and giddy and in love like that again, after everything.

Who starts the tickle fights

Daniel. Both of them are repeat offenders with bringing work home, but Peggy in particular can’t shut off work stuff even by bedtime. To cheer her up and/or get her mind off work, Daniel tickles her. Here’s the thing: Peggy is very ticklish. The one weakness of the invincible and invulnerable Margaret Carter, future director of SHIELD, is that she cannot stand being tickled at all. A good tickle fight sends her laughing and squealing, and Peggy...

Who starts the pillow fights

...and Peggy will not hesitate to retaliate by turning it into a pillow fight. She loves the tickles; there aren’t that many people she allows to see her like that, and she enjoys the casual intimacy. And it’s just fun. But she also likes to win. So once Daniel gets a few innings, she will whack a pillow into his face.

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile

Daniel. It’s not that he is necessarily a night owl, he just really cherishes being one of the few—if not the only person—around whom Peggy lets her guard down. So to see that razor sharp mind relax for the night as she drifts off to sleep, the way her face relaxes, looking way younger and more open than the world would ever see...it’s something he will never take for granted.

(Peggy loves the way Daniel looks asleep too, but once she hits the hay at night, she falls asleep way too quickly. So instead it’s the mornings for her. The way he looks mussed up from sleep in the early morning glow, soft and pliant with tousled curls sticking up every which way...that is when she is glad she opened her heart up to love again after the war.)

Who mistakes salt for sugar

Neither. Their home is pretty well organised, so it’s not common for them to make that mistake. And as Daniel will insist to anyone who doesn’t believe them, salt and sugar look different.

(There are, however, a few hilarious incidents when a particularly groggy, sleep-deprived, and under-caffeinated Daniel unloaded spoonfuls of salt into his coffee. But no one needs to know about that.)

And if Peggy has claimed multiple times in NY SSR that she mistook something else for sugar...well, if they think she’s too stupid to identify sugar, they can make their coffees themselves.

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning

Both are repeat offenders. They have had enough late nights that a snack at 1am is just a given, and is always welcome. Frankly, the loud beep is a good wake-up call.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines

Daniel. Peggy thinks they’re awful, but when it comes from someone she loves who just wants to make her smile, it’s hard not to crack up. And Daniel does love messing with her.

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order

Neither. They will grumble about ‘doing it this weekend’ when they need to find a particular book but couldn’t, but really, it just makes more sense to arrange them by their own patterns than plain alphabetical (theme then preference for Peggy, old vs new then theme for Daniel).

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies

Peggy is not patient enough to wait for brownies to be done before tasting them. And—as she frantically explains with a blush when Daniel catches her licking the spoon—she’s just cleaning the spoon!

(Daniel likes the taste of brownie batter, but thinks the texture is a bit meh. And if Peggy wants the spoon, well, he’ll gladly hand it over.)

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion

They both do.

Life’s too short to not sprinkle a bit of magic into everyday life. At the start of their relationship, they tried to mark all those special days. Birthdays, anniversaries, holidays…but too often those have to be rescheduled thanks to a combination of work, injuries, and extremely rude villains who have no consideration of other people’s plans. And really, when you can never tell what might come up tomorrow, the best option is to seize the day and make every moment special.

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen

Peggy. I really see her as a doodler. It began with her tracing little patterns on Daniel’s arm with her fingers. But sometimes, say, on a carefree Sunday morning when they’re just relaxing in the living room, Daniel with a book (or a ridiculous tabloid magazine—see the last question), Peggy armed with a pen from doing crosswords, she starts doodling.

(Fun fact: apparently it is real that one of SOE’s tests for their potential recruits is whether they can solve crossword puzzles. The rationale behind is testing whether a potential spy/code breaker can guess at the crossword author’s intended message, as one would when piecing together a potentially jumbled, broken, or misspelt piece of intercepted communication.)

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation

(I reckoned that these two predate souvenir magnets, so I had to go look it up. Apparently while magnets have been around for millennia, souvenir fridge magnets weren’t really popularised until the 1960s, which makes sense considering fridges as we know them didn’t become commonplace until post-war. So souvenir fridge magnets definitely predate the canon timeframe of these two. But headcanoning these two’s travels by the time of the 60s…)

Daniel. While I doubt their work leaves them much time for vacationing, they do travel for work. And when it takes him some place special, he likes to remember the trip with a fridge magnet. Peggy likes looking at them, but she wouldn’t really pay for one herself unless it’s very, very special—either because of the destination or the design. Anything other than that, she argues, is just tourist trap.

(Besides, it’s not common for Peggy to have to travel for work. When she has to be on the move, tourist souvenirs are usually pretty down low on her agenda.)

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines

Daniel, duh. I refuse to believe that someone who waves a magazine at Peggy to tell her that Whitney Frost is Agnes Cully doesn’t also read them on the regular. They are filled with made up gossips, yes, but sometimes the darnedest clues are buried in the ridiculous Hollywood speak. And while Peggy thinks they are an awful and ridiculous waste of time, Daniel definitely thinks they’re funny because they’re such an awful and ridiculous waste of time. So when Peggy’s biting her pen trying to figure out what 7-letter word should go into 3-down, he will nudge her to answer. ‘Peg, Peg you have to pick one. You—no it’s not a waste of time, this is crucial to the longevity of our marriage! Which is your favourite room in the house, the bedroom, the kitchen, or the living room? Come on-’

And much as she tries, she can’t help but crack up at those sincere puppy eyes. ‘Bedroom. And I can show you exactly why it’s my favourite.’

#peggysous #peggy carter #daniel sousa #headcanon #my writing

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themafia-terrapins · 3 years

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Into the night.

A/N: You should read the post before this to get an understanding of this AU. Fair warning, this is pretty long. Enjoy! 💚

Disclaimer: mention of child abuse ahead. Be warned!

Cold. Merciless. Dangerous. Mysterious.

They were the only words that many used to describe the Hamato Clan. No one wanted to mess with them in fear of what they would do, countless stories were told of those who had double crossed them and in result, hadn’t lived to see the next day. The most feared gang caught in a dark and ruthless world of crime, violence, blood and lust. Others wanted their wealth and power but not everything is what it seemed to be.

The cold breeze hit Leonardo’s face, as he gulped down air quickly into his lungs. He was sure those horrid nightmares would have stopped, it had been almost 11 years for God’s sake. Cursing under his breath, he knocked down the tub of medication which rattled on the floor. The view of New York was beautiful from all the way up here and as frantically as he tried to focus on it, those poisonous thoughts blazed through his mind and he had no power to control it.

“Father please don’t leave again” The young teen cried, trailing helplessly after the rat who swore angrily. Being only 13, he wasn’t able to grab those supplies that his brothers needed. They were forced to rely on Splinter but he would hardly help them. They were lucky if he even brought down the bare necessities for them to survive on.

“How many times do I have to tell you leave me alone?! Enough!” Splinter growled, loosening his tie as he made his way to the sewers steps. But Leo had to try for his brothers, he couldn’t look at their pain anymore. He couldn’t go back empty handed, to witness Raphael put up a brave front despite actively bleeding and bruised practically everywhere on his frail body. He couldn’t see Donnie on the verge of another panic attack because he didn’t know how to fix them. He couldn’t bear to see Mikey trying to hold it all together but breaking down in the bathroom , when he thought nobody was listening because he couldn’t live in this nightmare.

“R-Raph is hurt and we don’t have any more bandages” Leo spoke timidly, trying to sound clear and confident but his voice trembled. Splinter stood still and the turtle could already smell the sour whiskey from his clothes. It had been a bad day, he presumed. Whiskey was only drunk whenever a loss was incurred. And that usually meant he wouldn’t be home for days, much o the turtle’s pleasure.

“What have I said about speaking back?!” Splinter bellowed, his arm whacking Leo backwards until his shell hit the tunnel. The side of his shell had already been damaged due to constantly training day and night to perfect the routine Splinter had set them. But an audible crack had been heard and a small gasp left his lips, already seeing a trickle of blood roll down his skin staining the previous bandages. He hadn’t even time to register the pain until Splinter loomed over his body, his eyes black and dangerous.

“Father I’m-” Leo’s breath hitched in his throat, tears prickling his eyes painfully watching his hand raise slowly. ‘Not again, please not again’

“You’re absolutely hopeless, you hear me?!” Again Splinter punched the turtle, laughing each time when the terrapin recoiled in pain. Leonardo held his tongue, scared to further anger the drunken rat. Every slap, punch and kick was taken without a sound because the punishment for wincing was double the amount than the beating now. And he wasn’t so sure his shell could take anymore.

“Look at you! You expect to take on my legacy acting like a pathetic little girl?! Get out of my sight before I finish you” With one swift punch to Leo’s jaw, Splinter left to go topside. He could hear his evil voice cackle on the phone to one of his partners in this mysterious business he refused to utter a word about.

“Why do you hit us so much? What did we ever do to you?” Leo sobbed quietly, curling into a little ball on the floor. The punch on his plastron seared throughout his body, burning in hot white pain. Yet it must be nothing compared to what his brothers were going through. They were awaiting Leo but the eldest could barely move, let alone walk to their home.

Home, usually described at being comforting and loving but he hadn’t felt any of these emotions since they moved in. He used to yearn for a mother to come and take their pain away but as he grew, that dream slowly died as hope in him also began to wither.

Maybe one day things would be different...

---

Blaring traffic shocked the turtle out of his trance and with a shuddering breath, he took several deep breaths. He l

“Why must I be reminded of such memories?” Leonardo sighed, his hand drifting over his temple to soothe the dull ache. No matter how long it had been, the wound from his past was still fresh. They say time healed all pain so why did his still hurt? Some nights it was bearable and some nights it felt like he was being suffocated in his mind, slowly driving insane.

Physical pain definitely was a lot more tolerable than verbal, even now he could still hear the echo of Splinter’s voice reprimanding him whenever he failed. Those stabbing words ringing louder and louder in his ears, berating him for being stupid and weak. Laughing at how his ridiculous attempt of leading a team. Leonardo never wanted anything more than to make Splinter proud but during his years, he realised that it was never going to happen.

Splinter only cared for himself and Leo, along with his brothers, were merely pawns in his cruel game.

But now was not the time to dwell on these matters, things had to be done and completed. His phone rang jarring him out of his thoughts and he picked it up rather reluctantly.

“What is it, Silas?” His assistant/companion spoke quickly, picking up the disinterest in Leo’s voice. He was never one for sugarcoating his feelings or emotions, if the boss wanted something done it was pronto.

“Beast is requesting dinner with capo and the mob. Your presence is required, sir” Holding his urge to groan, the turtle glanced down at the lights that decorated the buildings of New York. They were so beautiful but he couldn’t even take the time to appreciate it, reality had called and with great reluctance he had to answer.

Beast... what was there to say? He was a snob, ignorant, extremely wealthy but lacked any common sense or values. Leo’s patience was practically non existent whenever he communicated with him. While he provided a great reference for other business partners, Beast himself was on thin ice with the brothers.

“Dinner at... 1am?” Leo scowled, looking at his watch. Beast, while had been an average business partner, had constant demands and ideas that were completely absurd. The brothers were tiring of his constant requests and awful timing.

“I did not suggest the convocation at this late sir” The assistant began but Leo interrupted him, wanting to end this conversation.

“Be that as it may, unfortunately I cannot attend. Cancel my plans for tonight, I have a reconciliation to attend to and the conference will take up most my time” He ordered, observing the bonsai trees that stood on the balcony. One thing he grew to adore was his plants, they were simple and with enough care and love, blossomed into something gorgeous.

“I don’t think Beast will be pleased with the rejection. He only wants a few words with the mob and especially you, Capo” Silas tried to reason but the terrapin was adamant.

“Enough. Reschedule this meeting tomorrow at 11pm sharp. Am I understood?” Leo commanded and Silas nodded, already writing it down in his notepad.

“Crystal. Enjoy your night sir” ‘Unlikely’... Hanging up, the blue cladded turtle inhaled a deep breath to collect his thoughts. Cancelling the meeting is a mistake but there were bigger fish to fry tonight. Other duties lay heavy on his mind and with a turn of his heel, he left his safe haven.

As he entered his room, a young woman appeared at his door. Her heels echoed on the polished marble floors, grinding on his last nerve. God he really didn’t want to deal with her right in this moment. Her eyes settled on his and her face lifted into a small smile, one he did not mirror back.

“Katherine, what brings you to my quarters? Surely you’re old enough to understand you cannot barge in whenever you please” Leonardo watched as the young woman quickly stepped back, picking up the heavy discomfort that lay in the air.

“My apologies Leonardo. It’s Raphael, he said that you guys are attending a conference tonight but it’s our 3 month-”

“I fail to understand how this is my problem” He was quick in letting her know, he hadn’t the time to listen to her. Truth be told, he would never understand why Raphael stuck with her. She caused more pain and grief than anything to him.

“Okay... but could you tell me at least why?” She cocked her head and Leo turned, his face set in a hard frown.

“That is between me and my brothers Katherine. I do not appreciate when people interfere in my business. That much should be painfully obvious” His tone was calm but the harsh voice was clearly heard.

Opening his cupboard door, the small picture of Eva caught his eye. A small pang of sadness washed over his body before getting a grip on himself, refusing himself to succumb to the weakness. Eva was the past yet it seemed no matter how long the years had gone by, the yearn was as strong as ever. He wondered if he would ever be free from the shackles around his heart that locked tightly in his chest.

He had to accept that no matter how much he hoped on a wishing star or to the sky, she simply was not coming back. On the side showed a glass mirror, outlining all the features on his face. Sleep hadn’t come to the turtle much recently, he was lucky to get 4 hours and that was on a good day.

“You know you can just call me Kiki like everyone else” She raised her brow as he grabbed his navy blue velvet suit, the unreadable facial expression plastered on his face while his dark sapphire eyes burned into hers. Still standing at the doorway, she felt almost scared of him. Despite being with his brother for around 8 years, she never felt like she knew Leo. No one did, he kept to himself and only showed his true colours to those he cared about.

“Katherine, if that is all you have come to say then I highly suggest you leave me be now. It would not bode well for you to overstep your boundaries” With an almost snarl, he walked forwards and closed his door.

---

“Would you like some champagne, Mr Hamato? It’s the one you specifically requested, Dom Pérignon” The waiter asked and Leo nodded his head, flicking through the newspapers as he awaited the rest of his brothers to join him. This meeting was better suited to the office, he didn’t need any extra ears or eyes to listen in on the information discussed between them.

“God, I need a drink” He could hear the brute’s voice carry through the halls and into the meeting room.

“Right away boss” Greyson, his assistant spoke and vanished to make his preferred alcoholic beverage.

“What is the occasion, dear brother? As much as I like to spend time with you, I’m assuming you haven’t called us for fun” Donnie sat down, his ankle resting on top of his thigh as his attention diverted to his brother. Delicately folding the papers up and placing them to the side, Leo eyed his younger brother with a smirk.

“Always straight to the point Donatello. And you’d be correct, I’ve called this meeting to discuss our next steps” He spoke authoritatively as the turtles settled in their seats, glancing at the board which held ideas and secret plans.

“Did ya cancel tha meetin’ with Beast tonight?” Raph asked, eyes skimming at the tablet. That was very unlikely of the leader, he was the one always nagging to keep up with business meetings and such.

“Yes, I’ll be damned if I have to listen to another lie of his again. He cannot speak clearly and I have no time for beating around the bush. Once we’re done with this proposal, it will be a big relief to have him off our backs” Leo sipped his wine, flicking through his notes. A few names picked up but on the whole, everything seemed relatively calm. But there was no resting, they couldn’t afford not to be on their guard. Trouble was brewing on the horizon, he could feel it in his body.

“Fuck sake, how many times do I have to tell you I hate when you organise my notes like this” Mikey sighed irritably as his brothers smirked, looking at each other with amusement.

It was a running joke that Mikey couldn’t hold an assistant down for more than 2 months. Perhaps it was his picky way of being organised or that he had a short temper and hated his things being out of place, they didn’t know. This new assistant fumbled with the drinks, paling as his boss shouted his displeasure.

“What happened to Donetti Licata?” Donatello asked, chuckling at his younger brother expecting another childish story about organisation as it as had been the story before.

“Fired him. Caught him screwing Mia in my bed. Which reminds me I really need to employ someone who actually has a working braincell” Mikey spoke nonchalantly while his brothers looked at each other wide eyed.

“Oh... shit. M’sorry Mike, that must’ve been hard” Raph murmured, surprised at how well his little brother was taking the whole thing. Almost... too well in his opinion. Amelia had been the light of his life, his love at one point. They both brought out the best in each other but perhaps it was simply a mirage to the toxicity that lay just under the surface.

She wasn’t the Amelia he fell in love with and as he came to grips with that, the idea of losing her forever felt absolutely scary to him. He tried everything to put their relationship on track but it was Amelia who refused to partake in anything.

“Hmm? Oh.. yeah. It was tolerable once I beat the shit out of him. I can’t ever believe I trusted the fucker....” Mikey leaned back on his chair as another glass of wine was placed in front of him. Yet the lump in his throat felt unmovable, rendering him breathless.

“Don’t tell me ya still wit’ her Mike. Yer deserve better than that” Raphael’s hand ached to knock some sense into the terrapin. Even if she would countlessly cheat on him, which she probably had done, all she had to do was flutter her lashes and sweet talk him. And just like that Mikey would forgive her in that second. In his eyes, Mia could do no wrong. She had Mikey on a leash but of course, he was oblivious to it all.

“You still with Kiki?” Mikey retorted, venom in his words while his eyes glared at his brother. Raphael’s frown deepened, holding his gaze. While he knew it was in the heat of the moment, he wished Mikey could see the damage Amelia was doing to him. Kiki was different only because Raph knew her past, knew that she was damaged too. How could he, of all people, leave her hanging alone?

“Children, behave. What do we do about these last few payments? I’ve talked to Xavier and he’s saying Gomez hasn’t responded to anything. It’s high time we pay a special visit, he’s got to know who exactly he’s messing with here” Donnie rolled his eyes at the quarrel and adjusted his glasses, raising them closer to his eyes. Leonardo seemed to be in deep thought for a few seconds before looking at his family again.

“If that’s the case then I want you and Mikey to check it out tomorrow. Me and Raph will deal with Beast, we all know how dramatic he likes to get when he doesn’t get his way” They all knew the last time they messed with Beast, how he threatened to take his money away and leave them bankrupt. Regardless of his filthy money, the turtles were not affected without it.

Years of investing and saving up had allowed them to live luxuriously. They had everything they ever wanted, Beast was just a liability to them. They needed him to increase potential business partners. To be able to stay at the top, they needed to associate with people at the top. If that meant doing business with idiots who couldn’t hold their ground and lacked any sense of morals and values, then so be it.

This was the mafia, after all. Nothing was pretty here.

“He’s clearly trying to inherit the property, why not just kill him altogether” Mikey pointed out, leaning back on his chair but Leo shook his head.

“Too risky. He may be a fool but he’s a smart one. He has plenty of connections with others, much powerful than the ones we have. We’ll keep him on the side but don’t turn your eyes, he will strike when least expected. Once we secure this deal, you can unleash all your anger on him. For now, we stay in his good books. However long that may be” He grimaced at the thought of the meeting they were supposed to have instead of this one. How long the turtle brothers would remain on his good side was unknown but hey, only a few more months of his bullshit and it was home run. The brothers continued to talk about upcoming events and nearing the end of the meeting, they all grabbed their belongings.

“Wait a sec, Amara’s coming here tomorrow?” Mikey read out the small note on the board and Leo nodded, finishing off his wine.

“Yes, well technically she’s visiting but we needed some help around here and she agreed to stick around for a while” She was a close friend to the turtles, meeting them after they newly escaped Splinter’s clutches. She had found them at a time when they were barely breathing and even without knowing who they were, she nursed them back to health. They all were indebted to her. Throughout the years, she went back to Italy since her father was part of their own mafia but her loyalty to the turtles never wavered.

“At least we get ta see a new face ‘round here. But goin’ back ta before, I can’t wait ta finally kill that bastard” Raphael cracked his knuckles, unbuttoning his vest. He never was one to take orders from people, he was incredibly stubborn and arrogant to take commands from someone else. He barely followed Leo’s on a good day, let alone someone who continually threatened him and his family. If it were up-to him, he would have Beast’s head on a silver platter and sent directly to his team

“All in due time brother. For now, let’s focus on getting our money back and dealing with Beast”

#tmnt mafia!turtles #tmnt mafia!leonardo #tmnt mafia!raphael #tmnt mafia!donatello #tmnt mafia!michelangelo

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joyfulhopelox · 3 years

Text

Right now i don’t know if i want to kiss you or shove you off this building

Part 1 | Part 2(end)

A/N: I have no words really, just i needed to get this off my chest and i wrote it so quickly that part 2 is probably going to be out by the end of the week.

genre: fluff (x100), University! au/ College!au

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox do NOT repost or reblog

Stealing is a crime please do not steal, i do not cross post anywhere else only Tumblr

Pairing: J-Hope x reader (College!AU/ University!AU)

Word count: 4,000 words

Warnings: i'm still bad at writing fluff but here we go (i cried a lot inside whilst writing it)

There are few times in someone’s life when they would have to rush out of the house in the middle of the night. Most times, it involved an emergency of some sorts.The usual A&E rush, the cravings rush and most important of them all, the all nighter in the library rush.

You have been debating for over an hour now if you should make a dash to the library. Your exhausted body screaming at you to just curl up into a ball and sleep- or cry, whichever came first. However your consciousness, and the fact that your anxiety was at an all time high, was telling you to just suck it up and go get your books from the library. That coupled with your approaching deadline. And to be honest you knew exactly what you would end up doing. After all, your grades could not afford to take a fall. Not worse than what they’ve dropped to now. Anymore and you would flunk the year completely.

But do you really need that book? Your brain tried it’s last card on you. You could technically just stay in, bury yourself in your blankets like the Michelin man, and write your essay that way. Sighing, you rubbed your tired eyes and got up grabbing your prized pen, the one that got you through your first and second year of exams, a couple of pieces of paper just in case, and your laptop. A trek to the library it is.

The spring air was doing a good job of waking you up. The light breeze, warm enough to not make you die of cold, but cold enough to cool down your tired flushed face. The 10 minutes it took to walk from your accommodation to the library was enough for you to steel yourself against an all nighter of studying.

What you had expected when you went in was anything but a packed library with students quietly studying. The noises of scratching pens and the rhythmic click-clacking of keyboards creating a mellow background noise. Some were dozing off, and you could not blame them, but holy hell could they not have done that at home? Okay, maybe you were judging, but could anyone blame you? You were desperate for a space and by the looks of the rows of heads between the shelves, there was a slim chance you would actually get a seat somewhere. If needed, you knew you could just crouch in between the shelves near the section that housed the maps, but you did not feel like inhaling dust and sporting a cramped leg for the rest of the night.

“Oh come on! This is a big library, there must be a seat somewhere” you whispered to yourself quietly, your eyes scanning the 3rd floor of the library. Aha! There. By the will of the gods, there was a seat, a lone corner at a table that was packed to the brim. You hastily made your way before anyone could spring out of nowhere and claim it, and slammed your butt down on the seat sighing in satisfaction. You’d made it. The first task done. Proud of yourself, you opened up your laptop and pulled the document you had been writing on. The bold letters at the top stating you NEEDED to get that specific book. A harsh reminder that the second task now would be even more difficult. Hunting for a book in this mammoth of a place. But what if you lost your spot? You needed your laptop to search for the book and to be honest you did not trust your laptop to not be stolen. You groaned to yourself, once again debating whether or not you needed the book

You finally decided that the book was non-negotiable and so you quickly grabbed your pen, with the promise to yourself that you would not get lost in the maze of shelves and interesting literature. Hastily writing a ‘will be back’ note, you slammed the pen down on top of the paper and rushed out of your seat.

The library atmosphere was quiet, despite the space being full of poor students who were rushing to meet a deadline or had exams coming up soon. Perusing the shelves, taking note of names that may interest you further on in your degree or even just as personal pleasure, you basked in the quietness and the dimness of the space. You loved the library at night, sure, but not when you were in a rush to finish a paper and not when exam and deadlines season pushed everyone and their mother to cram themselves in the space like sardines. Overall though, the space was dark and quiet just as you liked it.

Finally arriving at the area that was of interest to you, you stood in front of the row of shelves, a slow grin forming on your face. It was perfect, 4 rows of untouched literature. And you had all the time in the world.

Except...you didn’t. “Fuck” you cursed to yourself. You knew you did not have the time and you promised yourself you would not do this. Looking down at your watch, you let out another curse. “Fuck”. It had taken you half an hour to get here, the digital face of your watch showing 12.30am. “Oh man, I did it again” muttering to yourself, you turned your back towards the interesting titles that were calling your name and focused on the one book you actually needed.

Only to not find it on the shelf. Just your luck. “What am i supposed to do now?” dejectedly sighing you slowly made your way back to your seat. All you could think about was the missing book on the shelf.

How were you supposed to be finishing your paper now? Suddenly the quiet and calm atmosphere became gloomy and dark, this was not going very well for you. So lost in your thought you almost walked by your spot. Stopping right on time you looked to the side only to do a double take. It was not your spot anymore, the leather jacket as well as the mop of dark hair that could be seen occupying the seat was definitely not you. You double checked the area making sure you did not stray away again and somehow landed in the wrong spot but no. That was definitely the desk you had placed your note on.

It was just missing the note and seating another person now. Today was definitely not your day. The last thing you wanted to do at this time of the night, especially when you were in a hurry to finish and hand in your paper, was to be civil. But that was your seat. You refused to slouch in between the shelves and cram a seven thousand word paper tonight. You’ve done it enough times in the past for your bum and back to already be screaming at you in protest. Taking a deep breath in, you steeled yourself and approached the seat stealer.

The closer you got, the better the view of the seat stealer. Goddamn they were handsome. At least the side profile was something to enjoy looking at, but that did not change the fact that they had stolen your seat and were comfortably spread out onto the desk casually typing away at their laptop.

To top it all off, as if the scene was not enough to taunt your nerves, they were humming quietly to the beat that you could faintly hear coming from their headphones. And if you were to admit it to yourself, which you would not, they were very good at said humming.

“Uhm...excuse me” your voice cracked, having not been used for a couple of hours. You could not afford to seem meek in front of them, cute as hell and a great hummer be damned, they would not get the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. Truth be told, you hated confrontation. It was the last thing you resorted to under normal circumstances, let alone now when you were tired and stressed. Standing up straighter you tried again, “Excuse me!”

They made no move to acknowledge you or your shadow that cast now over the desk, as if you were both one and the same. Frustrated, you let out a huff and reached out to tap their shoulder. However, as if the fates had it out for you today, the humming seat stealer also came to life, moving his head towards your outstretched hand as they went to grab for their notebook and pen. That motion combined with yours caused a painful collision for the both of you. As it had not gotten a chance to change trajectory towards their shoulder, your unprepared hand bent awkwardly as it made contact with the side of the person’s head. A loud “oh fuck” chorused from the both of you, as both parties retracted as if burnt. Had you mentioned it was not your day?

“Is there a reason why I’m being assaulted at...1am on a Tuesday in the library?”. the seat stealer asked as he turned around to face you completely. He finally had a voice as well, and it was just as nice as the humming. Scrunching your nose in annoyance, you took a deep breath in prepared to tell him off. Not only was HE the one assaulting your hand but also your well deserved seat. Only to do the stereotypical double take. The mop of hair hid a very handsome face. High cheekbones and a pointed nose, your eyes trailed further down to his long neck and toned body. “Uh…” the stranger, seat stealer muttered, his hand going to scratch awkwardly at his long neck. Your brain agreed, “Uh…” you smartly copied snapping your eyes back at the face. You had clearly been caught staring judging by the smug smirk the person had on their face. Not only that but you had managed in a few minutes to smack a total stranger and display copious amounts of intelligence whilst trying your hand at a smart rebuttal to their question.

“So, now that I have your attention. Care to tell me why you are assaulting me at 1am on a Tuesday?” The tone of voice was less alarmed, more amused now. As if he clearly found your embarrassment entertaining.

“Assault? I have not assaulted you….you seat stealer!” You furiously exclaimed only to be interrupted by an equally stressed out fellow student“, Keep it down”. Only then did you become aware of the situation you are in. Three other rows of desks near the one you were currently at, and each of them seated a student who, like you, probably either had exams or deadlines. They were sleep deprived, hungry, and probably had too much caffeine running through their blood for their own good. And they were all focused on your form. To embarrass you further, the seat stealer even had the audacity to smugly smile and whisper “yeah, shhhhh.”

Getting redder by the minute, whether in mortification at being told off by the student a few rows away from you or from increasing anger at the seat stealer, you bent down, eyes narrowed “you….you...shush, and whilst you are at it, get out of my seat, you seat stealer”. You were unsure whether your shouted whisper would sound menacing enough to convey the mixture of emotions running through your veins at the moment. The stranger’s smug smile dropped instantly, a look of confusion replacing it, “seat stealer? What is that about?”

“You stole my seat!”

“I did not. The seat was free. If you passed by it, it was free and you didn’t sit down or leave your stuff on the chair; it doesn't automatically make it yours.” The stranger shrugged carefully, studying your expressions. What he saw must have really amused him because he started snickering to himself. Getting redder by the minute your rebuttal was weak, if only you’d have thought about it beforehand.

“I only have my laptop on me! And I left a note and my precious pen on the desk! A note which you have thrown out to steal my seat.” That is when it all went downhill. “you ‘strange seat stealer’!” the snickers coming from the handsome man got even more violent, to the point of you worrying about him choking- had you not been angry at him you would have asked if he was ok. Unfortunately, you were angry and nothing he did could have solved that.

The stranger abruptly stood up, so close to your face that you could see the numerous lashes that shadowed his dark eyes, amusement still plastered onto his face. He grabbed your elbow lightly, giving you a chance to break free if needed, but you were so stunned by his actions that all you could do was question how handsome his angular face was. “You’re cute, and that was a smart, if odd, alliteration you made there” He breathed, the action making a stray strand of hair blow away from your face, “but we’re making a scene”.

“Wh-” before you could process what he’d said, he trailed his hand from your elbow to your own hand and lightly gripped it with the intention of moving you away. The sudden jolt sprung your brain back to life and you tried fruitlessly to pull your hand away from his grip. Unfortunately, your brain decided to work a bit too late, as you were already past the rows of desks and shelves of books, closer to the lift lobby on that floor. “I am not making a scene, you are making a scene. Who are you to get me away from my seat not only once, but twice?!” Your feet firmly planted on the ground and finally got the stranger to stop. “I don’t know who you are” as he made a move to talk, you interrupted “and I don’t care, I saw that seat first, left a note on it to say I was going to be back and you stole it! I need the space!”

“Why?” The stranger calmly asked. His face showed no signs of anger or frustration, and it seemed like it belonged like that, serene and peaceful. And it made you wonder if anything could ever anger this man. Sure, you did not know him but you had been yelling in his face for the past minute. His demeanour and question threw you off so much so that your brain once again hiccuped.

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean why do you NEED the space, it’s clear that you do not have a bag or any belongings for that matter.” He gave you a once over to emphasize his words, his calm eyes lingering a bit too long on your form for your anger to continue overriding the flustered mess that you had become. “I- I do!” You don’t know why you needed to prove yourself to him, but it was a valid question he’d asked. So, you showed him the arm he was not holding, that carried a laptop. Realising he was still holding onto your hand, the sudden thought made you suddenly hot and clammy and before he could do anything about it you pulled it out of his warm hold.

Trying to ignore the loss of warmth the contact brought you, you looked away flustered.

“This cannot be happening. Look, I sat down there first, I put a note down because I needed to go find a book for my essay and….oh god...it’s due in like…..five hours”. Not looking at him the entire time you explained your situation to him, frustration and anxiety taking over your anger you missed the worried look he threw at your red face and the slight movement he made with his hands as if to grab your fretting ones. Instead when you looked back at him after a couple of moments of silence, what you saw was him studying the space behind you closely. “Hey! Are you even listening?” You got over your anger and tried to explain, (not that you needed to) somewhat logically to make this person understand why you needed the seat back and all they did was ignore you.

“Have you found the book that you needed?” He turned his attention back to you, a small smile forming onto his face. You did not know whether it was the fact that he completely ignored what you had said earlier, the untimely smile he gave you, or the fact that your heart sped up at the said smile, but your anger went through the roof once again.

“No! Now excuse me whilst I go reclaim my seat. If you want to waste time out here just staring at the walls, that is your issue, some of us have problems they need to fix.” Making a move to turn around you halted, realising you were going the wrong way. Mumbling to yourself you brushed past the guy and headed for the lifts. Calling the lift you tapped your foot impatiently. You could find another seat somewhere else, and if not, you were desperate enough to finish the paper that you would risk your own bottom and sit in between shelves. It felt like an eternity until the lift arrived and as soon as you got in you pressed the button for the floor above you thinking you may have some luck there. Surveying the corridor you noticed that the guy had left, and surprisingly a twinge of disappointment made you sigh. You just wanted to continue the argument, nothing else.

Right before the doors to the lift could close though a running form made its way to the lift sliding in between the door with swift grace, almost barreling into you. It took you a moment to realise it was the seat stealer with his bags packed up and his laptop in his hands. “What are you doing?” you hissed as you noticed he cancelled your floor and pressed the tower one instead. “Making up for stealing your seat”, he casually replied as he observed the numbers in the lift change.

“By not letting me go find another seat?” you huffed, “you could have just vacated the seat earlier and it would have all been fine.”

“But it wouldn’t have given me an excuse to talk to you for longer than three seconds would it? I’m Hoseok by the way.” He turned and smiled at you, the dimples in his cheeks becoming prominent. Rendered speechless by his forwardness, you did not know how to respond. So you settled onto clearing your throat and willing the blush that was taking over the apples of your cheeks away. Not meeting his eyes and refusing to grant him with the same grace and give him your name, you chose instead to ask where he was planning to take you. His response was just as cryptic as his previous one, “you will see”.

The rest of the way had been spent in silence, you having given up on trying to argue with the seat stealer...Hoseok. You repeated the name in your head multiple times, it suited him. For a brief second you wondered how it would sound if you said it out loud, but you squashed that thought away very quickly. You weren’t friends or even acquaintances so there was no reason for you to do so.

Whilst your brain was running a hundred miles an hour, throughout this time Hoseok took the time to observe you. Undeniably pretty, a smile made its way onto his face as he watched the different faces that you were pulling clearly lost deep in thought. You are cute. He knew that your argument couldn’t even be called as such. To his defense, the seat he had occupied had nothing on it. It was only when he ran back to gather his things and rush back to you that he noticed the note and the pen that were lying on the floor near the foot of the desk. In his haste he had grabbed both of them hoping that if his plan did not work he would have another excuse to approach you at some point. Now, those two items were weighing down in his pocket. Your name, which you had not freely given to him but it was written on the note, burnt into his mind. Maybe he did not need them after all. He would give you your pen back of course, but he would keep the note. It would be good memorabilia in the future.

The lift came to a halt and the doors opened .This time Hoseok did not even hesitate to grab your hand and lead you to your destination as he was afraid you would run away from him. Your heart thumping again at the gesture you let yourself be led by him too astonished to say anything. Who was this human being and why was he so friendly after you’d argued for the good part of an hour. Before you could panic about the time you had lost, Hoseok stopped abruptly.

‘We’re here’ he motioned with his free hand. The one that did not occupy yours.

Realising so you tried to inconspicuously free your hand from his, the astonishment at his behaviour quickly turned into amazement at the choice of space he was presenting you with. You were not a fan of the tower as heights were a bit of a stretch for you but the cosy alcove with window seats and the view of the night time sky it provided were enough to make you forget that. “Woah, how did you find this place?”’ You mumbled and quickly went to the window observing the lights of the city behind you. For how late it was, the scenery down below was surprisingly animated. Not getting a response you turned around thinking he had abandoned you there. What you were not expecting was the bashful look he was giving you whilst rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, by mistake really, I just happened to wander here one day and yeah...thought it was quiet enough and...well, I needed to make up for the fact that you did not have a seat in the end and you said you needed to finish your paper and…yeah’

Him reminding you of the paper that was now due in less than three hours made you jump in panic. Without thinking you threw your laptop onto the little table space that the alcove offered and sat down. Typing your password you opened the document you were working on. Whilst waiting for it to load you hesitated, bit your lip and looked up.

“Are you not going to sit down? I assume you also have work to do since you are here?” Without looking, you motioned to the seat directly across from you. This could end up being the best decision of your life or your worst... but you came to the conclusion you wouldn’t know unless you took a chance. Hearing him shift his feet and the feel of his knees close to yours as he sat down was enough to make you blush again. Here it goes, now or never.

‘I’m Y/N by the way’ you looked up in time to see him smile.

‘I know’

#jhope x reader #jhope x you #jhope x y/n #bts jhope #kpop scenarios #bts scenarios #i lowkey wrote this whilst not having slept for a week so i'm sorry #bts x you #bts x reader scenario

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draco-and-tom · 3 years

Text

TW!!!- Mentions of suicide attempt, Mentions of suicide note, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of grooming, Mentions of sexual assault, Mentions of cheating, Mentions of early eating disorder signs. Please let me know If you catch any I didn’t say.

This is about Talia (@satans-little-devil) Okay, so it has come to my attention that I have been played long story short. It all started when she sent in this request. I love requests and was delighted to write for her. Talia would keep checking up on me and asking if I ate/drank etc. We started talking and becoming friends and after about 2 weeks she started getting flirty. I did not know her age at the time so I would flirt back. I'm a little flirty with all of my friends so I didn't see anything wrong with it. After about another week we got even more flirty and on a Friday of (I think) April we started dating. I called her 2 times while we were dating and both times she had an excuse for why she couldn't speak, only listen. On those calls I told her how alcohol and sexual abuse were triggers for me which will come into play later. We dated for 3 days till she told me that she wasn't comfortable with my age, so we were going to wait a bit. We continued to do the exact same things as we were doing before. We weren't supposed to talk romantically to anyone else, we weren't supposed to kiss, touch others, anything like that. After about a week of that is when the suicide attempt and letter posts happened. She had told me about how her parents were abusive and I even supposedly got her in trouble because of our messages. Her parents are homophobic and her sister read through them, then told their parents. I don't even know if I believe this anymore because I've had a gut feeling about this and some things didn't add up which I will get into later. That night I begged her to not do it and told her a whole bunch of things to get her to stop. I even messaged a random person I saw on her blog a couple of times (that I did not know) seeking help. She ended up telling me that I had convinced her and that her parents needed her for chores or something. At this point I'm blowing up her phone, because she hasn't answered me in a while and I'm starting to get worried. She answers me after a few more minutes and tells me that she’s okay and going for a drive. I tell her that's fine, but to be safe because the last time she told me that she got into her wreck. She told me that she would be and once again she stops answering completely. I blew up her phone a lot at this point because i was so scared that something had happened to her. I woke up around once every hour to check our messages and send new ones. I wake up around 3 or 4 in the morning and see that she messaged me back. I read it and she tells me about a post that her sister made for her talking about the attempt. I keep talking to her and she keeps saying sorry and so do I. After a couple of days all of her surgeries are done and she is resting in the hospital. That weekend I get random messages from her telling me things that I couldn't quite make out. She ended up telling me about a day later that she was in a Christian mental hospital and that the messages were her trying to get help. This is why she was saying things like “I'm fine they told me themselves”. She was talking about the nuns. I was pretty skeptical about this because I’ve been told by people I know that they take away electronics from patience there so I asked her how she still had her phone. She told me that she didn't and that they allowed her to have her school lap top. Me being me thought that it was odd, and decided to trust her because I thought that we were close. I’ve always been a trusting person and refused to act on all of the red flags that I saw. She told me that her parents forged her signature, but later she informed me that she found out her doctor signed her into the mental hospital/group home type place. After a while she seemed to be getting better and told me that she liked it better there because she didn't have to deal with her parents. A few days later she informs me about a friend named Blake. Apparently he was one of her friends that she had known since elementary school. She told me that they were really close and that they cuddled which I was uncomfortable with because I'm a very jealous/territorial person, but I let it slide because I felt that I was over reacting and she shouldn't have to change her friendship habits for me. The next day were talking and she tells me that they kiss in a “friend” kind of way. I don't know exactly what that means to her, but that was were I told her in made me upset. She told me that he was gay and that he had a fiancé that he loved dearly. A few moments later all of the sudden Blake is bisexual. She tells me to not worry about him and I brush it off. The next day I am informed that Blake’s boy friend cheated and they broke up. She started telling me about how He would get drunk and become violent and would tell her to hide the alcohol from him. I asked her how he got it in the first place since they were in a mental hospital after all. She basically told me that the nuns didn't care. One of the days he got drunk she told me that he sexually assaulted her. I told her that it was not okay and that she should cut him off. She said no because he was one of her best friends. I eventually convinced her to at least talk to him about it and they ended up crying. We ended up setting boundaries for them. After all of that cleared up she tells me about a friend named Jacob she had coming to visit. Before reading this part please note that I am a minor. I have no experience with sexual matters other than what I see and read, so I have no clue how communication during works. I'm obviously not innocent, considering I run a smut page, but I am not sexually active either. Talia would always push me into sexual things, but in the end I always gave my consent. We didn't do anything overly sexual, just texting. She would always tease me about doing sexual things with both of her friends even though she knew it bothered me. One time she did and told me that she did sexual things with him. I didn't believe her. Later in the day I told her to be nice and that I wasn't mad to which she responds with something like “you aren't mad about Jason?”. At this point I was a little confused and asked if they actually did anything and she ends up saying that they did. She basically blamed it on me and I ended up feeling bad for 2 reasons.

1. I had just been cheated on for the first time

2. I felt like it was my fault.

she said that she was sorry, but I was being too mean and she wanted to be good for someone and that I should have known. By this point in our relationship I started developing eating issues. I would get so stressed out that if I even thought about eating I felt like I would throw up. I told her about it, but did not tell her what the cause of my eating problems were. After a couple of days I'm having a good time at the beach on vacation. She knew that I was on vacation and that I was trying to relax because of my recent problems having to do with her, and just life in general. About 2 nights ago she messages me and tells me that she kissed Jason again. I’m going to try not to show too much emotion in this because i don't want to trauma dump you guys, so ill say the rest as good as I can. I forgave her again. I told her that if it happened again that we were over and she agreed. everything went fine and yesterday was actually pretty smooth sailing. Me and her had nice talks. Her friend messaged me and she asked me to block her, and I did. The only thing that was bothering me at this time is that she started to stop talking to me earlier in the day. The schedule change was drastic. We used to message throughout from around 9am-1am, and it recently changed to around 12pm-8pm. Today I woke up, got ready to leave my hotel, and messaged her at about 7am. In the car I messaged her and told her that I might not be able to talk for awhile because i lost my charger. she ends up responding with “hiii” and that was the last message I got and will probably get from her, because when I got back home and checked my messages her whole account was de-activated. I unblock her friend and ask her if Talia is okay. her friend still hasn't answered, even though I don't think I want her to anymore. I saw a couple posts about her, but didn't believe them until i saw an ask from @sexy-for-cedric about @were-not-doing-get-help ‘s post. If it wasn't for that I would probably still be on her side, but knowing that I was cheated on ATLEAST 3 times in a month by the same person sent me over the edge. I understand that what she did was horrible, but please don't tag me in any posts shunning her or saying dreadful things about her. I know that its wrong for me to, but I still love her and I hope you all understand that I hate myself for it, so please don't be rude to me. I was already nervous enough to post this. And if anyone tries to tell me how I feel trust me, I know how i felt about her. I have a locket with her picture in it that I cant wear anymore. I hope anyone that is going through what I am knows that my dms are always open and that this is not your fault.

And Talia if you are seeing this I'm sorry and I truly do love you, but the pain started to be too much as of today when I found out. I'm sorry, I hope you find your way in life. I hope you are okay.

People I think should read this: @sexy-for-cedric @were-not-doing-get-help @georgeswh0re @quindolyn @krasivayadarling @inureflower @just-the-best-devil @mrzweasley

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spideyfic · 4 years

Text

I’ll Sign My Name on the Rooftop in the Snow

For @seek-rest, who is a delight and an actual ray of sunshine, and also happens to write wonderful, beautiful stories that either break my heart or make me smile. Merry Christmas, lovely. Thank you for welcoming me into our little corner of fandom with open arms. <3

When swinging home after a late patrol on the first Christmas Eve post-Blip, Peter spots someone suspicious on a rooftop.

Peter hadn’t planned to stay out so late, but as Christmas Eve ticked over into Christmas Day, he found himself crawling up the side of an apartment building, buffeted by an icy wind that carried the promise of snow.

“KAREN, would you please text May and tell her I’ll be back by 1am?” he whispered as he neared the roof.

“Message sent, Peter.” His AI went silent for a moment. “May has replied ‘OK baby see you soon x x x blue heart emoji, red heart emoji, Christmas tree emoji’.”

He set his web shooters to restrain before hopping over the wall and landing silently on the roof, creeping up on the man who’d caught his attention when he was swinging back to the tower.

Short, round and dressed entirely in red with a black leather belt wrapped around his domed belly, the man was trying to cram himself into a chimney without much success. A bulging red velvet sack tied with a thick gold cord sat on the roof within his reach.

He was really committed to his Santa aesthetic, Peter had to give him that. Even if he was a lousy thief breaking into homes on Christmas.

Peter took aim and hit his target, binding the man in a cocoon of webbing, his arms trapped against his sides. He released the webs, circling to stand in front of Bad Santa, who smiled at him from behind the most magnificent white beard Peter had ever seen. His eyes twinkled, circled by gold wire-rimmed glasses, and a bushy white pompom dangled from the end of his red, fur-trimmed hat.

“Dude. Sneaking down the chimney on Christmas Day to steal things? Not cool. And like, I admire your effort, but we both know you’re not gonna fit in there.” His Spidey-sense flared, like something was breathing down his neck, and he swore he heard a snort, but when he turned to look behind him there was nothing to see other than the first few flakes of snow drifting lazily in the air.

“Dear Spider-Man, I can assure you that I am not planning to steal anything,” the man said, his voice gently jovial. “I’m merely delivering.”

“So you’re a reverse-thief? You break into people’s homes and leave stuff? What’s your name – ‘Santa Claus’?” Peter scoffed, crossing his arms.

The man nodded. “Yes, that’s one of my many names. You may call me Nicholas, if you prefer.” He was entirely too composed for someone wrapped in web and stuck in a chimney.

“Like Saint Nicholas, right?” Peter nudged at the sack with his foot. “And I guess this is full of gifts?” The bag topped sideways with a solid sounding thump that was disproportionately loud for its size.

“Correct on both counts, Peter.”

It took a moment for Peter to register that ‘Nicholas’ had said his actual name. “Uh – what did you call me?”

“Your name, Peter. Unless you’d prefer I call you Mr. Parker, but that feels a little formal, given that you have me restrained in a chimney.” Nicholas chuckled, a deep, rich ‘ho ho ho’ that made his belly jiggle beneath the webbing like – well, like a bowl full of jelly.

Peter crossed his arms, suddenly feeling defensive. “How do you know my name, Mr. Nicholas?” The snow was falling harder, thick, wet flakes that were perfect for snowballs and snowmen, and he turned on his heater to ward off the chill.

“I’m Santa Claus. I know far more than just your name.”

That sounded a little threatening, but Peter shrugged it off, brushing snow from the top of a maintenance hatch and sitting down. “You’re really expecting me to believe that you’re Santa? I’m sixt – uh, I’m not six. It’s been a long time since I wrote a letter to Santa.” He made a show of nonchalantly writing ‘Spider-Man’ in the snow he hadn’t swept away, the warmth from his heater melting the icy crystals beneath his finger. Even though the man couldn’t see his face, he didn’t look up, worried that he’d lose his composure if he made eye contact.

“Seventeen years, to be precise. For me, at least. For you, it was eleven years ago.”

Peter’s finger stopped, and he looked at the man in shocked disbelief. “Mister, I don’t know how you know that, but I’m pretty sure tampering with the mail is a federal offense.”

Nicholas had lost his twinkle, his face sad. “In 2006, you wrote five letters to me. The first was dated July 23rd.”

“Stop,” Peter whispered. “You can’t know that. Nobody knows that.”

The man pushed on. “The second letter followed on your birthday, August 10th. Another, November 23rd, then again on December 15th.”

Peter was suddenly on his feet, fists clenched and his breathing rapid. “Stop. Stop it. Just – just don’t. Don’t.” His voice broke, and he blinked away the prickle of unexpected tears. “Please. Please don’t say it.”

“You wrote your last letter to me December 26th.” Nicholas’s voice was so kind, so gentle, but Peter wanted him to shut up. “You were five years old, but your intellect meant you were able to write at a standard far above your peers, and you made it very clear that you didn’t believe in me any longer. But you asked me for something I couldn’t possibly deliver, despite how very much I wanted too.”

Peter dragged his mask off. Nicholas knew his name, so the man seeing his face was the least of his worries. He pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes, the pressure making flashes of light dart across the black. “I don’t understand how you know all this,” he rasped, unable to keep the tears at bay any longer. “Who are you?”

“Open your eyes, Peter,” Nicholas said, sounding closer, and Peter did as he asked, finding the man standing next to him, free of the webbing and holding out a handkerchief. “You know I’m telling you the truth, Peter Benjamin Parker.”

Peter scrubbed at his face with the handkerchief. “You can’t be Santa Claus. He’s not real.”

Nicholas snapped his fingers, and Peter flinched at the sound, momentarily taken back to a battlefield and the sight of Tony on his knees, but that was forgotten as the snow suddenly stopped falling. Not because it had stopped snowing, but because the snow hung motionless in the air, a million bright white flakes suspended in a moment of time. It was beautiful.

“You first asked me to bring your parents home for Christmas the day after they died,” Nicholas said, placing his hand on Peter’s shoulder, and it was oddly comforting, full of love and compassion. “The first four letters were full of hope that I could bring Mary and Richard back to you. The last was full of grief and anger, written the day after your first Christmas without them, when you realized that you weren’t going to get what you wanted.”

Peter vividly remembered that first Christmas without his mom and dad, five years old and suddenly realizing that he was never going to see them again, and that Santa Claus couldn’t be real, because if he was, his parents would have been waiting by the tree for him on Christmas morning. He remembered feeling a crushing sense of betrayal, and it was like losing his parents all over again, for good this time, finally understanding that there was no bringing them back. Years later, most of his early childhood memories - including those of his parents - had faded, but that one was almost crystal clear, kept fresh by his adamant refusal to go visit Santa every Christmas that followed.

He'd never told May or Ben about his letters, written in the small, still hours of the night when he was supposed to be asleep. He’d left them on the windowsill of the spare room that hadn’t felt like his, with its oatmeal-colored walls and a floral comforter on the Queen-sized bed that was too big for him. The letters had disappeared by the time he woke up, and he’d always assumed that his aunt or uncle had found them when checking in on him, but apparently not, if Nicholas was to be believed. And a part of him was beginning to think the man was telling the truth, as crazy as it sounded.

“I just wanted my mom and dad,” Peter said, twisting his mask in his hands. “They weren’t religious, so I didn’t pray or anything like that when they died, but writing to Santa just seemed right.” He shrugged, but didn’t feel self-conscious admitting something so personal to a complete stranger. It felt easy to talk to Nicholas, like he’d known him his entire life.

“Many children see me as someone who can grant impossible wishes, Peter. Those are the letters that stay in my mind, the pleas for something I can’t give, knowing that my seeming indifference will cost a child a portion of their innocence, take away the magic of Christmas.” Nicholas sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and he felt like an old friend, reassuring and familiar. “I wish I could have given you what you wanted, Peter. You, and the millions of children who make similar requests every year. But death is final. Immutable.”

Peter wanted to argue that death wasn’t final - he’d died five years (two months) ago, turning to dust in Tony’s arms on an alien planet, and he’d returned to life, but he knew that hadn’t been a natural death or even an actual death; it had been more like being put on indefinite pause.

“I miss them,” he confessed quietly. “I don’t remember their voices or their hugs or their laughs but I miss them. All I remember is that they loved me.”

“They did love you. They loved you very much, and they would be so incredibly proud of you,” Nicholas said. “They were always on the Nice list, just like you.”

Peter turned to face Nicholas. “You’re serious about this Santa thing, aren’t you?”

“I am. Just listen to that boundlessly loving heart of yours, Peter Parker. It knows.”

He was actually starting to believe Nicholas. He’d seen and accepted weirder things, and that wasn’t even including the stuff he’d experienced as Spider-Man. Aliens and Gods, and time travel and magic – with all of that, who was he to say that Santa wasn’t real?

He laughed, breathless and wonder-struck, giving himself over to just believing. He gestured at the snow, still hanging motionless in the air, reaching out to poke a flake. He was on board with the whole Santa thing, but he was still a scientist, couldn’t resist learning whatever he could. “Can you manipulate the space/time continuum? Do you use quantum tunnels, or are you present in multiple planes of existence simultaneously? I guess you could use magic like Doctor Strange. You must have to visit thousands of homes per second.”

Nicholas clapped him on the shoulder, letting out another of his wonderful chuckles. “Yes.”

“Yes to what? The quantum tunneling? Because quantum physics would totally allow you to be in multiple places at the same time, but it doesn’t explain why you go down chimneys when you could just phase though walls. Unless it’s for the …”

“The aesthetic,” Nicholas finished. “I don’t need to use chimneys, but I like to every so often, because I do so enjoy popular culture’s artistic interpretations. And to answer your question - just yes. Yes to everything you said, and many things you didn’t.” He waved a hand, and the snow began to fall again. “I placed us in a little pocket of time, just a Yoctosecond for the rest of the world, but about thirty minutes for us. It may take me nearly seven months to complete my deliveries, but that’s thirty-one hours in real time.”

Peter felt something breathe down his neck again, but when he turned this time, he saw a reindeer standing behind him. He didn’t even question why a reindeer would be on an apartment rooftop, because that was just how his night was going, and he’d made a decision to surrender himself to the impossible and go with it.

The reindeer huffed at him, and pushed its muzzle against his face, nuzzling his cheek. Peter gently stroked its snout, receiving a lick in return. “Hey, big guy,” he cooed, smitten with the animal, who had absolutely no business being on the rooftop, but whatever. He was stroking an actual reindeer. “He’s beautiful,” he said to Nicholas as he sank his fingers into the reindeer’s mane, scratching gently and making it toss its head in delight.

“He’s a she,” Nicholas corrected. “This is Prancer. She’s an inquisitive one, aren’t you, girl?”

Prancer snorted, bumping her nose into the palm of Peter’s hand. He could feel the damp heat of her breath even through the fabric of his suit. “Where did you come from, buddy?” he said, stroking her ears.

“She’s been here the entire time, Peter. You just couldn’t see her until you believed.”

Peter had obsessively watched The Polar Express as a child, despite his low-grade animosity towards Santa Claus, and he’d thought that the mark of belief was hearing the ringing of a golden sleigh bell, but apparently it was seeing reindeer in Manhattan. “How was I able to see you before I believed? If people could see you all the time there’d be photos of you all over the internet.”

“I wanted you to see me. I have a message for you to pass on to someone who requested something I could fulfil but couldn’t gift-wrap or deliver.” Nicholas stood, brushing snow off his rear. “When you see Morgan Stark in a few hours time, please tell her that her Christmas wish has been granted.”

Peter watched Nicholas take hold of Prancer’s harness and lead her across the rooftop. As they walked, the air shimmered and a sleigh and eight other reindeer appeared, who snorted softly as Prancer took her place back amongst them. “Mr. Nicholas?”

Nicholas turned to look at him, his hands working to secure Prancer’s harness to the reins. “Yes, Peter?”

“What’s Morgan’s wish?”

Nicholas tapped the side of his nose. “That’s top secret. I’d never disclose the nature of any Christmas wishes I receive. She’ll know what you’re talking about, I promise you, and you’re the very best person to deliver the message.” He picked up the sack that had been left next to the chimney and slung it over his shoulder. “Forgive me for rushing you Peter, but I have deliveries to finish, and it’s getting late – your aunt is waiting up for you.”

Impulsively, Peter caught the man up in a hug. “I won’t remember any of this, will I?” He didn’t know how he knew that he’d forget, but he was certain that he would.

Nicholas patted his back fondly. “No. You’ll remember to tell Morgan about her Christmas wish, but you’ll forget our conversation, and what you saw this evening. I do hope you’ll think more fondly of me, however.”

Peter stepped out of the embrace. “I hope so too,” he said quietly. “It was nice to meet you, Mr.Nicholas. I wish I could remember this.”

Nicholas touched a gloved hand to his chest, just to the left of the spider emblem. “You’ll remember right here, when you’re with your loved ones. Merry Christmas, Peter.”

“Merry Christmas,” Peter echoed, as Nicholas climbed back into the chimney. This time, the brick work expanded to accommodate him, and he slid smoothly in, pausing to smile at Peter.

“Goodbye, Peter. You’re a good boy, and you’re going to be a great man.”

“Bye, Santa.” Peter suddenly felt much younger than sixteen, full of awe and wonder.

Nicholas disappeared completely down the chimney, and with a faint sparkle, the reindeer and sleigh disappeared from view once more, leaving Peter seemingly alone on the rooftop.

He looked around him, wondering what had drawn him there. Nothing caught his eye; it was just a deserted, snow-covered roof, with only his footprints disturbing the otherwise pristine blanket of white.

With a shrug, he tugged his mask back on and jumped up onto the wall, flicking through his web shooter settings and letting out a test burst of web fluid before stepping over the edge, a web catching on the building across the street. As he swung through the falling snow, he happily hummed Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer under his breath, staying close to street level and trading Christmas greetings with people heading home. Spirits were high ten weeks post-Blip, the world still celebrating the return of half its population, and Peter found himself filled with fondness for his fellow New Yorkers.

The tower was bright in the distance, calling him to his temporary home, and he swung faster, wanting to pull on the Christmas Eve pajamas May always bought him and drink a cup of hot chocolate before heading to bed.

His aunt was waiting for him in the cozy little living room of their borrowed apartment, and two mugs of hot chocolate sat on the coffee table. The soft warm glow of the tree lights was the only source of illumination in the room, adding to the coziness. “Hey, baby. Good patrol?”

He flopped next to her on the sofa, pulling his mask off and resting his head on her shoulder. “Yeah. Pretty quiet. Sorry I’m back so late, I thought I saw something, but it turned out to be nothing.”

She pressed a mug into his hands. “It’s only a quarter after twelve, you’re back earlier than I expected. Fifteen minutes is fine if you give me a heads up.”

He felt like he’d stayed out at least an hour past his curfew, but he wasn’t about to argue with his aunt. “Thanks, May. I’m gonna go get changed for bed.”

She sent him off carrying his new pajamas, which matched hers – made of soft, warm, green flannel, with a pattern of tiny candy canes. A hasty shower, and he returned to the living room and the blanket nest May had constructed in his absence, snuggling in beside her. She wrapped her arm around him, pulling him close, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head as she played with his damp hair.

They sat in contented silence, watching the yule log channel playing on the TV, the gentle crackle and pop of the virtual burning wood filling the room and making him sleepy.

“We should go to bed so Santa can come,” he yawned, his mouth running on autopilot.

May laughed, throwing the blankets off and pulling him to his feet for a hug. “Haven’t heard you say that for a long time, sweetheart. But you’re right, we should call it a night. Morgan will probably wake us up at the ass crack of dawn.”

They each went to their own room, making a valiant effort to pretend that Peter wouldn’t crawl into May’s bed in a couple of hours seeking comfort after a nightmare. He was sixteen – he was Spider-Man – and he hated that a bad dream made him act like a child, but May was the only way he could calm down, banish the memories of disintegrating on a dead, orange planet, a billion miles away from home.

He curled up under the comforter, closing his eyes and listening to the faint rustle of May carrying bags of gifts out of their quarters and over to Pepper’s apartment. He’d offered to help before heading out on patrol, but May was insistent on keeping that part of their Christmas tradition going, even in the unfamiliar luxury of Stark Tower. She liked to set the gifts out after Peter went to bed, then get up before him to turn the tree lights on, keeping the magic going even though he was a teenager.

He was full of quiet, drowsy contentment, and an almost nervy anticipation for the morning, excitement he hadn’t felt for years. He loved Christmas and the way his world slowed down for a while, allowing him to spend time with May eating too much food and watching cheesy holiday movies. Their shared losses meant they doubled down on trying to make it special, keenly aware of the fragility of life and how it could all change in (the stopping of) a heartbeat. But it had been a long time since he’d felt like this – desperate for the morning to come, convinced that he was never going to be able to fall asleep because he was just too excited.

But he did sleep; deep and dreamless for the first time since being Blipped back to life, not even stirring at the soft, delicate peal of bells from the roof of the tower. He only woke when a pair of bony knees pressed against his lower back, and a shrill little voice shouted his name directly into his ear.

“Petey! Petey, wake up!” the voice screeched, as the blankets were pulled down from around his shoulders. “It’s Christmas!”

He opened one eye to look at his phone, groaning when he saw how early it was. “Mo, it’s not even seven yet. You should be in bed.” He turned underneath her, catching her around the waist, and she shrieked as his fingers brushed against the ticklish spot right beneath her ribs, turning into three feet and thirty pounds of wildly squirming four-year-old.

“FRIDAY opened the door for me,” she said, laughing fit over. “Mommy told me to come and get you.” She was wearing pajamas that matched his, and brand-new Tsum Tsum Spider-Man slippers, which he was going to need a Peter-sized pair of immediately, because he was never going to get over the fact that there was actual Spider-Man merch.

He flung a blanket over her, making her giggle again. “Oh she did, did she?”

“And May said you need to get your lazy ass out of bed.” Morgan dragged the blanket off, her hair fluffing out around her head in a cloud of static, and frowned at Peter. “Don’t laugh at me.”

He schooled his face into a look of mock seriousness and swept her up in a bearhug before rolling them out of bed, Morgan clinging to him like a koala, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Sorry, Morgie.”

“Your breath smells,” she informed him, and he threw her back onto the bed with a mock growl.

“That’s because you woke me up and I haven’t cleaned my teeth yet.” He left Morgan bouncing on the mattress and hurriedly used the bathroom, freshening himself up before returning to catch her mid-bounce, swinging her up onto his hip. He huffed a breath out right in her face. “Better?”

“Better,” she nodded. She planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, then squished their faces together and began to twiddle one of his curls around her finger. “You smell like candy canes.”

He’d only known Morgan for two months, but he already knew he’d die for her without a second thought. She was a loving, affectionate, scary-smart ball of crazy, and he absolutely adored her, had done from the very first moment he met her, when she’d crawled into his lap, called him Petey, and demanded that he tell her what it was like to swing from a web. Tony had apparently been telling her bedtime stories about both Peter Parker and Spider-Man since she’d been born, and she’d grown up thinking of Peter as her big brother. He was more than happy to fill that role in her life.

He carried her out of his and May’s quarters and across the hall to the rear entrance of the Stark suite. The door opened up into the back of the apartment, and the two of them padded silently along the lushly carpeted hallway, past the bedrooms and then out into the huge living room with its floor to ceiling windows and twelve-foot Christmas tree. May and Pepper were waiting, both wrapped in fluffy dressing gowns and hugging cups of coffee, and the bottom foot of the tree was completely hidden by presents.

He looked down at Morgan, expecting to see a look of wonder on her face, but instead he saw her dark eyes welling up with tears, her bottom lip trembling, and she hid her face in his shoulder as she began to cry. “Morgan?” he said, looking desperately at Pepper for help. Something was sparking in the back of his mind, something he needed to say, but he couldn’t remember what it was.

Pepper swooped in, taking Morgan from Peter and holding her close. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Morgan was sobbing incoherently, her shoulders shaking with the intensity of her cries. Pepper sssh’d her, rubbing her back and trying to soothe her as she cried for her daddy. They’d known this was going to be a difficult Christmas, but they’d hoped her age would protect her a little, even though Peter knew from his own experience that it likely wouldn’t.

He suddenly knew what he needed to say, the message bursting out of him without any conscious effort on his part. “Morgan, your Christmas wish has been granted.” Even as the words left his mouth, he made a face. “Huh?”

She stopped crying, a look of fierce determination on her features, and she wiggled in Pepper’s arms. “Put me down, Mommy.”

Pepper did as she was asked, and then Morgan was off, heading for the elevator with purpose. “FRIDAY, take me to the med bay, please.”

The three of them gaped at one another, and then moved as one to Morgan’s side as the elevator doors opened and she marched in.

Pepper crouched in front of her daughter, wiping her damp cheeks with the cuff of her dressing gown. “Baby, it’s too early to go to the med bay. They won’t be ready for us.”

“Peter said my Christmas wish has been granted, so I have to go to the med bay,” Morgan said, and Peter hoped his face and shrug conveyed just how very confused he was. He didn’t know why he’d said that – the words had sprung fully-formed with no thought, but they felt right.

Before they could make a move to leave the elevator, the doors closed and the cab began to smoothly descend. “FRIDAY, please take us back up to the residential level,” Pepper said.

“I’m very sorry, Mrs. Boss, but I do not seem to be able to override Little Boss’s original command,” FRIDAY apologized as the elevator reached the med bay floor, the doors opening automatically.

The med bay was usually quiet and hushed, the silence broken only by soft music and the sporadic bleeping of medical equipment, but this morning, it was quite the opposite.

“My family. I need – where are they? Please. Let me – I need to see them. Let me up.”

The four of them collectively froze in the doorway of the elevator at the sound of the familiar voice. A voice they hadn’t been sure that they’d ever hear again, a voice that had fallen silent on a battlefield as an arc reactor dimmed and died, leaving a badly injured man barely clinging to life.

“Mr. Stark –“

“Don’t Mr. Stark me. I need Pepper. Where is she? And Morgan. Pete. Happy and Rhodey. Please, I have to see them. I need to know they’re OK.”

“Daddy!” Morgan was the first to move, running into the bay and heading straight for the screened off area at the back of the room, Peter and Pepper on her heels as she fought with the curtains. “Daddy, I can’t find you.”

Pepper pulled the curtain back and her hands went to her mouth, her knees momentarily buckling as Peter supported her with an arm around her shoulders. “Tony,” she whispered brokenly as Morgan scrambled up onto the bed, tucking herself against her father’s side.

“Hey Pep,” Tony croaked, and that was all she needed to stumble towards his bed and fall against him, his one remaining arm coming up to cup the back of her head, Morgan squished between them. “You’ve caught me a little unarmed,” he joked, and Pepper made a little sound that was half-cry, half-laugh, grasping at the front of his pajamas.

Green, candy cane bedecked pajamas.

Peter looked at May, who was talking quietly with the two nurses on duty, and tearfully watching the family reunion. She smiled. “What? I couldn’t leave Tony out. I snuck them down here last night and asked Candace to put them on him.”

He moved to stand next to her and she linked their fingers, her other hand coming up to wrap around his arm. “We should go,” he said quietly, feeling like he was intruding on a private moment, but then Morgan was there, tugging on his free hand.

“Daddy wants to see you,” she said, pulling him towards the bed. “Come ooooon, Petey.”

He stood awkwardly next to Tony and Pepper, Morgan still clinging to his hand. “Hi, Mr. Stark.”

“What happened to calling me ‘Tony’, huh?” Tony held out his hand, Pepper moving to sit by his knee. “Bring it in, kid.”

Peter was drawn into an awkward one-armed hug, one knee up on the pressure mattress so he could lean in, ending up half-sprawled against the man’s chest. “You’re awake,” he said, Tony’s chuckle rumbling under his ear.

“Astute as ever.” Tony patted his back, and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Uh – why are we all wearing matching pajamas? Is it Christmas?”

“Astute as ever,” Peter teased, pulling away. “But yeah, Merry Christmas. You can thank May for the PJs.”

“You’re my Christmas wish,” Morgan piped up from her seat at the foot of Tony’s bed. “I asked Santa to wake you up and he did.”

“Is that right, Maguna?” Tony said distractedly, looking over at Pepper. “I’ve been out of it what, ten weeks? Longer? It’s still ’23, right?”

“It’s still ’23,” Pepper confirmed, her fingers stroking the now smooth side of his previously burned face. “We got you back from Wakanda last week. They fixed you up as best they could, and sent you home to finish your recovery. We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up.” She noticed Tony picking at the adhesive dressing holding his NG tube in place, and pushed his hand down. “Leave that alone,” she scolded.

He instead reached across to touch the empty sleeve hanging from his right shoulder, the excess fabric neatly folded up on itself. “Guess they couldn’t fix everything.” His face betrayed nothing of how he was feeling, but his fingers twisted tightly in the sleeve, and the numbers on his heart monitor began to climb.

Morgan crawled up the bed to snuggle up against his right side, resting her head against the stump of his arm without any hesitation. “You’re like Mrs. Nesbitt,” she said, fiddling with one of his pajama shirt buttons.

Tony’s face went soft, gazing at her with a look of awestruck tenderness. “Yeah baby. Just like Mrs. Nesbitt.” He glared at Peter. “I blame you for this. I showed her Toy Story because I knew you’d insist it was part of her classic movie education or some shit like that.”

“’Shit’ is Mommy’s word,” Morgan chirped, making Peter cackle.

“Yes, and only Mommy gets to say it, remember? And May, May gets to say it, but not you, or me, or Pete.” Tony did a good job of hiding his amusement, but Peter could see it in the way the corner of his mouth twitched. “Pete, don’t suppose you’ve started designing me a new arm yet?”

Pepper shot Peter a fond look. “Started? He’s on, what now Peter, Mark V?”

“VI,” Peter said. “But I have a few ideas for Mark VII that should improve the grip force regulation.” He noticed Tony staring at him, slack jawed, and he blushed. “School hasn’t started up again. What else was I supposed to do?”

“I was joking, kid,” Tony said. “You really designed an arm?”

“He basically taught himself how to build a neuro-prosthesis in a week,” May said proudly. “We could hardly get him to eat or sleep, and then he crashed for two days solid. He’s picked up too many of your bad habits.” She didn’t mention that the week in question was immediately after the battle; Peter had dealt with his grief and trauma by hyper-fixating, and his sole focus had been creating an arm for Tony, unwilling to face the fact that he might never recover enough to use it.

Channeling his inner Elle Woods, Peter brushed the praise off. “What, like it’s hard?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on the snark. “Thank you, Pete. When they let me up out of this bed, we’ll have some lab time, give your designs a test drive.” He paused. “Wait, you’re both living here, right? Pepper wouldn’t let me buy you an apartment, so the plan was that you’d live here when you came back until you could find a new place for yourselves.”

“That’s because Pepper knew I’d kick your ass if you bought us an apartment,” May said. “But yes, we’re living here. We should be able to move into our new apartment by the end of January, so we’ll be out of your hair soon.” She stepped forward, and quickly hugged Tony. “Thank you. If it hadn’t been for you and Pepper, we’d have been out on the streets.”

“You might have noticed we’re pushed for space around here, so it was a slight inconvenience,” Tony joked. “Seriously, you’re welcome. You and Peter, you’re part of the family, you know that, right? I wouldn’t let many people get away with dressing me in off-brand flannel pajamas.”

“Walmart’s finest,” May sniffed haughtily. “100% cotton for your delicate rich-person skin, I know polyester gives you hives.”

“You know what else gives me hives? Being in med-bay.” Tony gave Pepper a look that was truly pathetic, and she rolled her eyes at him. “Pep, spring me out of here, wouldya? It’s Christmas.”

“Tony, you’ve been unconscious for over two months. You’re not going anywhere until a doctor has checked you over, and even then you’ll need rehab, PT.” At her husband’s crest-fallen look, she continued. “I’ll make you a deal. You try and sleep for a while, and we’ll move the celebrations down here. Deal?”

“Deal,” Tony agreed. Peter could see that he was starting to tire, his face losing the little color it had, and his eyes heavy. “Morgan, what do you say to having a nap with your dad?”

Morgan answered by burrowing under the covers, her head on Tony’s chest. “Mommy, can you bring Daddy’s presents here?” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and let out a fake snore. “We’re nappin’.”

Pepper tucked the blankets around her husband and daughter, and kissed both of them on the forehead. “We’ll bring all the presents here, baby. Make sure Daddy stays out of trouble, OK?”

“OK,” Morgan echoed. “Daddy, you need to be good.”

Tony was all but asleep, and he murmured his assent, his hand coming up to stroke Morgan’s hair. “Hmm. Be good.”

Once she was certain that Tony was resting, Pepper checked in with the nurses to tell them the plan and ask for Helen Cho to be called in, and the three of them returned to the penthouse to start the mammoth task of moving the gifts down to the med-bay.

They began grouping presents by person, sorting them into the heavy-duty trash bags Pepper had grabbed from the kitchen. Peter glanced up to find Pepper staring at him. “You OK?”

She gave him one of her piercing looks, the kind that Tony had always said he found equal parts scary and attractive. Peter found it 100% terrifying. “How did you know Morgan made a wish? She didn’t write ask to write a letter to Santa, and she wouldn’t tell me what she wanted this year. She said it was a secret and it wouldn’t come true if she told anyone.”

“I – I don’t know. I just knew I needed to tell her that her wish had been granted.” He fiddled with the ribbon on a parcel addressed to May, rubbing the smooth satin between his thumb and forefinger. “But Santa really came though this year, huh?”

“For a kid who stopped believing in Santa at the age of five, you sure have talked about him a lot since last night,” May said, from behind a stack of gifts. “You made a Salvation Army Santa cry once. What’s with the Santa love all of a sudden?”

“I decided he’s not that bad after all. It’s not his fault that he couldn’t bring my mom and dad back to life.” He saw May’s face fall and realized what he’d said. “Uh – that’s what I asked him for when they died. I wrote him like five times that year, and when Mom and Dad weren’t there that first Christmas morning, I wrote to tell him I didn’t believe in him anymore. Which doesn’t make any sense when I think about it, writing to someone I was sure didn’t exist, but I was five.”

“Oh, baby. I didn’t know.” May swiped at her teary eyes and sniffed. “You were so little, just Morgan’s age. I thought you figured it out because of how smart you are.”

“Hey, it’s OK. He was never going to be able to make my wish come true. He’s Santa, not – not Jesus or Bruce Banner. He can’t bring people back to life.”

Pepper was squinting at him again. “You’re talking about Santa like he’s real.”

“He is.” For the second time that morning, Peter was surprised by the words leaving his mouth, but he knew they were true. He felt it in his gut, despite the lack of empirical evidence. “I can’t tell you how I know. I just do. Santa’s real.” He finished packing up the gifts and looped multiple bags along his forearms, the sacks completely surrounding him as they settled alongside one another like knots of dough in monkey bread.

May and Pepper wore matching skeptical expressions as they picked up their own sacks, one in each hand, clearly humoring him as they headed back down to the med bay.

They’d been gone a little less than an hour, and Tony was softly snoring. After two months of seeing him unconscious and completely still, it was reassuring to notice the little shifts and movements of his body in natural sleep.

Morgan was still curled up against him, wide awake and watching a projection of The Polar Express, the sight making Peter momentarily pause, like a thought had slipped in and out of his brain before he could catch it.

There was a small Christmas tree – well, it was six-foot tall, but small compared to the one upstairs – in the corner of the room, and as Morgan carried on watching the movie, they piled up the gifts around the foot of the tree.

Peter had just finished emptying the last sack when one of the nurses walked up to Pepper with a hessian bag in her hand. “Ms. Potts? I found this behind the nursing station. I don’t know how it got there, I don’t remember seeing it earlier.”

Pepper took the bag and looked at the tag. “’To the Stark and Parker families – Merry Christmas. Love from Santa Claus’,” she read out, before smiling. “Peter, was this you?”

At his blank look, Pepper put the sack on the floor and stepped back. “FRIDAY, please scan this for anything suspicious.”

“Scan completed, Mrs. Boss. Nothing suspicious detected,” FRIDAY said. “The sack contains five parcels.”

Pepper undid the red ribbon bow that cinched the neck of the back closed, and slid five beautifully wrapped gifts out onto the floor. “There’s one for each of us,” she said, examining the gift tags.

“They’re from Santa,” Morgan said, sitting up as the movie credits began to play. Tony stirred as she moved, opening his eyes and stifling a yawn.

“Time is it?” he asked, knuckling sleep from the corner of his eye. “Did I miss Christmas?”

May helped him sit up, dropping right back into nurse mode and supporting him with carefully placed pillows. “It’s just after nine. All you’ve missed is Peter showing off and carrying a dozen Hefty bags full of gifts. I took a video for you, he looked ridiculous. He had to do this weird little shuffle because the bags were bouncing around his legs.”

Tony snorted as Pepper placed his mystery gift in his lap. “I’ll add it to the ‘Preposterous Pete Playlist’, we’ll have a screening later.” At Peter’s noise of protest, he grinned widely, before his smile became something softer. “God, I missed you, kid. You’re gonna have to stick close for a couple weeks, until having you back doesn’t feel like something I dreamed up in my coma.” He winked at May. “Missed you too, Aunt Hottie.”

She tutted at him as Pepper passed over her gift. “I was gone five years and you still know how to grind my gears, Stark.” There was no heat in her words, just affection, and Tony gave her his trademark smug grin as he began to pick at the tape sealing his present shut.

Following his lead, they piled on his bed, Morgan and Pepper at his shoulders, Peter and May by his feet, and started tearing into their own gifts.

Tony somehow managed to open his first, holding the edge of the paper and letting the weight of the present unfurl the wrapping, the contents dropping into his blanketed lap. He picked his gift up, a little frown of confusion knitting his brows.

“Is that a 1977 Kenner Star Wars Han Solo figure in its original packaging?” Peter moaned, his own gift sitting forgotten. “And a Leia? What the fuh … uh, heck.” He moved to pick one up, and Tony bundled them protectively against his chest.

“Back off, Underoos. These are mine.”

“But you don’t even like Star Wars,” Peter pouted, trying to get a better look at the packaging.

“Uh, says you. Kid me thought Star Wars was amazing, Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher were my first crushes. I really wanted action figures that Christmas, but my dad said I was too old.” Tony let the blister packs rest back in his lap, and ran his finger across the plastic. “These look brand-new.”

Tony would have been seven the year Star Wars came out, and Peter felt a moment of sadness for the little boy who’d been told he was too old for something he loved. That same little boy was looking out through the eyes of his adult self, childlike wonder on his face.

May had finished unwrapping her gift. She laughed, and held the box up. “A Bionic Woman wrist radio! My mom and dad tried to get me one but it was sold out.” Much like Tony’s gifts, the packaging was in mint condition and looked like new.

Pepper showed off her gift, and Peter had another bout of fanboy envy. More vintage action figures in their original packaging – Egon Spengler and Slimer from The Real Ghostbusters. “Pepper, you liked Ghostbusters?” He couldn’t picture Pepper as a child – she was the most grown-up adult he knew, so composed and polished that it was easy to imagine she just appeared fully-formed one day, wearing a pair of killer heels and a tailored suit, completely skipping childhood and marching into Stark Industries to make Tony sort his shit out.

“I had all the comics and recorded the cartoon every week. I was in love with Egon.” She turned the boxes over, looking at the back cards. “Mom didn’t have much money when I was growing up, so I never asked for anything for Christmas. She always got me a few little things, tried her hardest, but she couldn’t afford things like this.” She choked up, pressing a hand to her mouth. “I’ve never told anyone I wanted these.”

Morgan was already hugging her gift – a Spider-Man plushie that matched her slippers. “How did Santa know?” she murmured, wide-eyed. “I only asked him to wake up Daddy for Christmas.”

All eyes shifted to Peter, the only person yet to unwrap his gift. He felt the weight of expectation as he peeled the tape away from the small parcel.

A simple silver photo frame lay nestled in the paper, displaying a picture of Peter as a toddler, sitting on Santa’s lap with his mom and dad standing either side of him, the three of them wearing matching sweaters and cheesy grins. He hadn’t seen the photo before – his parents had lost almost all their possessions in a house fire the year before they died, so the only pictures Peter had of himself before the age of four were limited to the few May and Ben had taken.

He wordlessly held the frame out to May, and she took it, letting out a little gasp. “Oh, Peter. Look how tiny you were.”

Something tinkled inside the discarded paper, and when Peter shook it out, a gold sleigh bell about the size of a tangerine tumbled onto the mattress with a soft chime, followed by a slip of paper. He picked the bell up in one hand and the paper in the other.

The paper had one word on it – ‘believe’.

“Told you,” he said, shaking the bell next to his ear and listening to the sweet, gentle peal.

He knew it in his bones. Santa Claus was real. He had his tangible evidence now, in the form of gifts that were meaningless trinkets for most, but full of sentiment and nostalgia for the recipients, things that represented their childhood longings, left behind but never forgotten.

Tony gave him an odd look as he continued to ring the bell. “Kid, I think it must be broken. Doesn’t matter how hard you ring it, it’s not going to make a noise.” He held his hand out and Peter leaned forward to place the bell in his palm, watching as Tony shook it. “Nope. It’s a dud.” He tossed it back to Peter, his aim pretty accurate given he was using his non-dominant arm.

The bell jingled again as Peter caught it. “How can you not hear it? It’s really loud.”

May gestured for the bell, and it was her turn to shake it. “Nothing.” She passed it on to Pepper, who repeated the motion.

“Sorry Peter. I can’t hear a thing.” Pepper handed the bell back.

Morgan left Tony’s side to deposit herself in Peter’s lap, and she took the bell from him. It was big enough that she needed to hold it with both hands as she made it ring. “It sounds really pretty,” she said, tipping her head back to look up at him. “It’s OK, they’re grown-ups,” she whispered conspiratorially.

He held her close as she played with the bell, the chime pure and clear, something magical in its tone. Their little shared jumble of a family regarded the two of them with obvious affection, Tony in particular watching with a fierce intensity that Peter could see was a mixture of pride and love.

He didn’t know what had changed, why he suddenly just knew that Santa was real, but he knew one thing for certain.

He believed.

#My fic #christmas fic #spider-man

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scullyeffect · 5 years

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harrowing tale of my visa-renewal appointment

ok so my appointment at the préfecture was made online three months ago. my visa expired three months ago, which was fun and totally stress-free, but i’d read online (through three months of extensive googling to make sure i knew EVERYTHING) that if you made your appointment before your visa expired, it could still be renewed.

i put all my necessary documents in a laminated file, full labelled so i could get to them easily when asked for them (there were about 25 documents in all), plus some extra documents my paranoid brain convinced me MIGHT be necessary.

i probably got about four hours of sleep last night and spent 2-6:30am just laying in the dark furiously counting sheep while my brain was continually stressing out about missing documents, refusal, etc. once i finally fell asleep i probably only got two hours and i’m pretty sure my alarm woke me up in the middle of a REM cycle because getting up was monumentally difficult. i was so tired and stressed and convinced it would all go wrong, and i’ve been so miserable at my job that i almost didn’t get up in the morning. i was like “cool. i have 90 days that i can stay in the country. fuck it. i’ll quit my job and go back home when i go back for christmas” but then i was like OK ANWYN GET IT TOGETHER and i finally got up.

my appointment was at 12:00pm, but préfectures are like the DMV, and you can wait in line with an appointment all day before they have time to see you. and at closing time if they haven’t gotten to you, you’re outta luck and you’ll have to take a new appointment! which are booked up so tightly that you’re lucky if you’ll get one within three months. préfectures are notoriously TERRIBLE though. some people line up at like 1am and sleep outside and wait until opening to be sure that they’ll be seen (i’m not kidding). i figured i’d be safe showing up two hours early.

when i got there i saw a huge line and thought “no way they’ll be able to see me. no WAY” then i saw a different section that said in TINY print for those with appointments and i was like hELL YEAH THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT WHY DID NONE OF THESE PEOPLE KNOW THEY COULD MAKE AN APPOINTMENT ONLINE. there were two other people in the section so i lined up and two minutes later someone came out, checked our papers, and let us in!!!!

then i went into registration and once they’d checked my papers they waved me right into the waiting room where about 50 miserable looking people were sitting. i took a number to wait and i guess the ticket was visible because before i could sit down the woman said “oh, they’re calling your number” and i was like no FUCKING way. so i hurried down to the cubicle thing and was greeted by a young woman who didn’t look thrilled to be there but probably had resigned herself to the fact that she had a job and that’s what matters.

and so i sit there and calmly fill out forms, hand her documents (some of which were forged i’m sorry @ the govt THEY’RE JUST ORIGINAL ENROLMENT DOCUMENTS WITH THE DATES CHANGED), and am as serene as possible so her job is easier. and then she told me to go wait again, so i did. and every time i saw her walk back and forth to her boss, or to the printer, i was thinking god, the forms...they’re gonna arrest me...or i’ll be denied because a bank statement was missing...or they’re just gonna deny me for some banal reason...or because i’ve already had four visas in this country but then she called me back and handed me a temporary three-month visa (which extends my current visa another three months until my new one comes in, which i’ve heard can take LONGER than three months), although she told me all i had to do was go pick up my card within the next three months at the local police station. and i’d read online that with the visa extension you can’t travel outside the EU so i was already mourning not being able to return for christmas, so i timidly asked her if i could travel outside the EU and she said “sure!” and i immediately was so happy.

when i left i told her “you are GREAT” and she smiled and said “you’re very nice, too!” it wasn’t even 12:00pm yet.

i almost SKIPPED out of there. i immediately wanted to tell everyone. i was in the metro just burning to proclaim my success to all of paris. i swear to god i almost told a complete stranger how happy i was.

i also suspiciously didn’t have to pay the 180e fee?? i wonder if she forgot?? maybe i’ll pay at the police station?? we don’t ask questions...

guys I DID IT. even though i hate my job at least i can legally work/live in this country!!! sorry for this long post but like i said, i now need to tell everyone about my stupid visa story.

#i'm unbelievably happy this isn't fair ppl shouldn't be this happy #esp over....immigration stuff #imagine if i'd applied for citizenship (which i could bc of residency) and gotten accepted #in that instance i'd probably burst into emma thompson elinor dashwood sobs on the spot

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burnsopale · 6 years

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Before I sleep, Olivier/Giancarlo and Ralf/Johnny

Title: Before I sleep Pairing: Johnny/Ralf and Olivier/Giancarlo Rating: PG-13 Summary: Olivier knows them well by now, his friends.

Author’s notes: I delight in making Olivier a little manipulative and morally uncentered. It’s partly because of the English dub where he is a bit of a bully, but also because of the Japanese version where he fails to see the potential harm of his actions. He uses his powers for good, though, and that makes him facinating.

This one was started already, but I finished it at 1AM today. I don’t know how much sense it makes, but eh, it’s something. It’s being posted at 9AM because I lost my internet connection as I was about to post last night and was too tired to fix it. So ironically it was not posted “before I slept”.

It wasn’t often they shared hotel rooms, but a mistake had been made somewhere and so Olivier, Giancarlo, Ralf and Johnny found themselves in a midnight-dark hotel room with two luckily sizeable queens and neither the energy nor opportunity to do anything about it until morning. Olivier and Johnny grumbled about it all the way to bed, Johnny mostly because how dare they treat us this way and Olivier because he slept lightly and was probably going to wake every time someone turned over.

Ralf took it stoically, and Giancarlo had won against Ivan today and was in indefatigable good spirits.

“It’s like a slumber party!”

“Oh, fuck off.” Johnny had lost against Yuriy, and was handling it about as well as he usually did.

They stood around awkwardly and brushed their teeth in the cramped bathroom, silently judging each other’s pyjamas.

Olivier studied the four boys in the mirror, and pondered. In addition to their own match today, they had watched the Americans battle the Chinese team, and sat next to the BBA for the duration of it. Everyone had been so open and easy with each other, joking around, feelings on their sleeves, completely unguarded. Well, not Kai, but Kai was more like the Majestics anyway. Down on the floor, the two opposing teams had cheered for each other as much as for their own players. Even the Blitzkrieg Boys were obviously deeply comfortable in each other’s company.

It had made Olivier think of his own team.

He loved his three friends. They were family to him, with all the ups and down that entailed. They were eccentric and high strung and private, but now that they were under each other’s skin they were bound together for life. Olivier knew them well.

He hadn’t really been aware of them until that first European Beyblade championship, when all four of them had burst onto the international scene like debutants at their first ball, but once they had stood on the victors' podium together, he had become insatiably interested in them.

It hadn’t taken him long to make Giancarlo open up to him. After a few months of bumping into each other at parties and Beyblade events, and then a long weekend in Paris, Giancarlo had told Olivier pretty much every secret he owned. He was Olivier’s now, his loyal, contrite pup, so eager to be better. And then sometimes he’d turn around and say something downright insightful and Olivier would be surprised to find himself known in turn. Sometimes he would spend the night in Giancarlo’s arms, and feel comforted and protected in a way he hadn’t known he needed.

In general, Ralf and Olivier were more reserved, Johnny and Giancarlo more emotional. Ralf and Olivier got along well for this reason, but it meant it had taken longer before Ralf had let Olivier get close. Olivier was a patient hunter, though, and after a number of mellow evenings reading in companionable silence, invigorating discussions of art and philosophy, fencing matches and blustery car rides through the French countryside, Ralf had slowly begun to share little bits and pieces of his inner life. His complicated feelings towards his late parents, his sense of not being quite like normal people, and how much he resented the world that demanded he conform. And his confusion at his own growing attachment to Johnny. Olivier could still vividly recall one particular late night confession, hidden behind dark curtains and whispered into a deep glass of wine.

“I want to make him kneel.”

It had suited Olivier just fine that Ralf wanted to take charge of Johnny. Someone had to.

He had tried, of course, to become Johnny’s confidant too. He had invited the boy to France, and it had been a pleasant enough weekend, at the end of which Johnny had walked into the airport with a knowing, jaunty wave and left Olivier feeling like he’d run into a brick wall. Somehow, the click of the lock opening, the moment of thawing, had just never come. At first, he couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong. He tried again, and again, coaxing, pulling gently at threads, making himself agreeable and hospitable and friendly. He had even given up some secrets of his own, and been shaken when it yielded nothing in return. Johnny remained an unassailable fortress, deflecting most of Olivier’s attempts with glee, but growing moody and snappish if pushed too far. He could happily talk Beyblading or sports or music for hours, but it never got personal.

Giancarlo didn’t understand Olivier’s frustrations. “He talks to me about all kinds of things. I don’t know what you’re so upset about, cara. Just give him time.” Olivier had grilled Giancarlo vigorously to discover if Johnny had simply chosen someone else to unburden himself to, but no, they were just a little friendlier with each other than Johnny was with Olivier.

Give him time? No, Johnny was doing it on purpose. It could not stand!

The click, when it came, was not of a lock opening, but of the puzzle pieces falling into place. They had all been gathering at Ralf’s for the weekend, an unusual thing at the time, and since Giancarlo had yet to arrive and Ralf didn’t give rematches, a bored Olivier had suggested to Johnny that they blade.

Johnny had gone pale, then red, said something incoherent about how Olivier wasn’t good enough and anyway Johnny didn’t have his blade with him, neither of which was true. Olivier had shared a look with Ralf, and pretended to let it go.

The next time he was asked to attend a local Beyblade event, he had called Johnny and asked if he wanted to join in.

“It’s a bit of publicity mostly, but it might be fun, and if we end with a match between you and me, we could really inspire the next generation … or, you know, show them they’ll never live up to us.”

He had expected the refusal before it came.

“I’ve … got a thing that day. Can’t make it.”

So there it had been again, but it takes three to make a pattern, so Olivier had tried one more time, when they were all gathered again.

“Hey, Johnny, I keep thinking about how we’ve never bladed.”

Johnny’s back had stiffened. “Hmm? So?”

“So, I want a challenge. Come blade with me. Let’s see who is better. Who knows, maybe I should have been in the finals.”

“In your dreams.”

There was the pattern.

“Do you have a stomach ache or something?” Giancarlo had wondered. “You always want to blade with me.”

Johnny had gone red again. “Fine! I’ll show you your place since you’re so eager.”

Ralf had said nothing, but he had watched every shift in Johnny’s expression.

Olivier would of course have liked to say that he won their match. He didn’t, though he gave Johnny plenty of trouble, at least. Johnny came at him with everything he had from the very beginning and stood his ground even when the entire stadium was shaking under Unicolyon’s hooves. Salamalyon darted in and out between Unicolyon’s legs, clawing at him, spewing fire, and slowly, Olivier felt how he and his sacred beast were being pushed back. In the midst of his frustration, Olivier had been distracted by curiosity. Johnny was doing just fine; he was incredibly strong, had extraordinary control over blade and beast, and Salamalyon was agile, quick and ferocious. So why had he been reluctant to battle Olivier?

Defeat came with a sudden impact that sent his pink Beyblade spinning out of the dish. Olivier felt disappointed, but he was not left empty-handed; Johnny laughed with delight and relief at his victory, and it told Olivier all he needed to know.

On the side-lines, Giancarlo smiled along and said “Try not to let it go to your head, eh, Johnny?”

But Ralf looked like his once-whispered desire was burning in him.

Much had changed since that moment, and some things had not. Johnny was still closed off against Olivier, except now it didn’t matter because Olivier had figured out how to read him; Johnny had taken his loss against Ralf much harder than anyone had known, and he had been frightened of what would happen if he battled Olivier and lost. What if he wasn’t even second, but third best? So he hid his insecurities, refused to battle Olivier, and hovered around Ralf in the hopes that he would change his mind about rematches.

Now Olivier knew all his friends well. He didn’t need more than a glance from Ralf before the lights were turned off to understand his intention. To help out, Olivier grabbed Giancarlo and fell into the nearest bed with him. This effectively left the other bed to Ralf and Johnny.

Johnny came out of the bathroom as the last one, and halted briefly when he realised the situation, but quickly pushed forward, going around to his bed and climbing in next to a seemingly indifferent Ralf.

“You’d better not plan to stay up and read; I want to sleep,” Johnny grumbled as he made himself comfortable, his back to Ralf.

“No, no. No reading,” Ralf promised, turning off the bedside lamp.

Olivier imagined he could hear Johnny’s heart pounding in the half-dark. "Good night," he said, turning off the final bedside lamp and plunging the room into blackness. Only at the edges of the curtains at the window did white city light still peek inside, but it didn't reach the beds.

Beside him, Giancarlo sighed in contentment. Olivier touched his shoulder and urged him to turn around, into Olivier's arms and away from the other two. Giancarlo made a small sound of inquiry, but Olivier put a finger to his lips and shushed him softly, before leaning in and kissing the place his finger had just been. Giancarlo acquiesced, adjusting them so they were lying deep in each other's arms and kissing quietly, but nuzzling up to Olivier's ear to whisper "What are you up to?" on a breath.

Olivier didn't reply, but let Giancarlo feel his smile in their next kiss. Then they settled down. Olivier closed his eyes and waited.

After a few minutes of silence and breathing, he heard the unmistakable sound of a body being pulled across the sheets, and imagined Ralf gathering Johnny into his arms. He heard Johnny’s whispered protest, muffled suddenly, and then the wet sounds of a deep kiss.

Some shuffling and another protest. “The others will hear-mh.”

More kisses, quick inhales between long silences and small moans.

Giancarlo ducked his head against Olivier's shoulder, a little embarrassed maybe, or maybe he had figured out Olivier's simple scheme.

Then the deep, smooth timbre of Ralf’s voice, impressive even as a whisper. “You did well today.”

A brief struggle. Outrage in Johnny’s hissed reply. “Don't patronise me-ah!”

Olivier couldn’t help himself; he peeked over Giancarlo's head and looked with adjusted eyes through the dark.

Ralf had pulled Johnny half on top of him, wrapped him in his arms, and was kissing his neck, hand stroking circles on his back under the covers, probably under his t-shirt.

Johnny's breath had gone shallow.

"Ralf ..." Johnny whispered.

But Johnny could protest all he liked; he belonged to Ralf and he knew it.

"You did well today," Ralf repeated with emphasis, and Johnny took a deep breath and rested his head on Ralf's chest and let the words sink in.

Olivier smiled, satisfied that his friends were happy again, kissed Giancarlo's forehead apologetically and settled in to sleep.

#Beyblade #BeyArMaMo #BeyArMaMo2018 #Judin writes #OlivierGiancarlo #RalfJohnny

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ocean-tumbled-pebbles · 6 years

Text

What if Happy Internet Cafe was a Cosplay Internet Cafe?

Fanfic slightly edited from my submission for the June fanfic contest on the discord server! I now have a FFN account and AO3 pending lol. Feedback and comments welcome~

Prompt: Ye Xiu has retired from Glory and departs Excellent Era but doesn’t head to Happy Internet Cafe and become a night manager.

Summary: In which Happy is a cosplay/internet cafe, Ye Xiu is a pro player magnet, and Chen Guo is a shrewd businesswoman

Tags: All叶, allye, cosplay, crossdressing, crackfic, tw minor sexual harassment, help i dont know how chinese money works, timeline is slightly off, let’s play spot the author’s favorite anime characters

(1)

Ye Xiu leant back languidly in his chair, his arms stretching out and coming to rest behind his head. “I feel that I match all of the qualifications, and work and pay aren’t a problem. So how about it?”

Chen Guo eyed him up and down. “Stand up.”

Ye Xiu took the time to stretch out his legs before lazily getting to his feet. Chen Guo circled him like a vulture coming upon a juicy piece of meat, muttering comments to herself.

“Hmm, he’s a little bit tall, but has pretty delicate features.” She crouched down to inspect his legs. “Long legs, not too much muscle....” She circled over to look at his back side. “Hmmm...”

Suddenly Ye Xiu felt a Smack! across his buttocks.

“Um...!” Ye Xiu yelped and rubbed his abused backside.

Chen Guo covered her mouth and snickered. “Oh, you’ll do.”

“Haha..?”

“So which shift do you want?” she asked.

“Night shift is fine!” Ye Xiu figured that he’d avoid the crowds and make some extra money. He didn’t mind switching his sleep schedule and he had always been pretty good at pulling all-nighters, thinking back to his time playing Glory all night long with Su Muqiu.

“Absolutely not!”

“Oh?” Were all the night shift posts taken?

“It’d be a waste to have a good looking guy like you take the night shift! If you want a less busy time you can take either the morning or the evening shift! Pretty boys like you need their beauty sleep!” Chen Guo explained.

Ye Xiu sweatdropped. “Uhh... Okay.... I guess I’ll take the evening shift then.”

Chen Guo clapped her hands together and gestured for him to follow her. “Great! You’ll work from 4 until 10. You get a break at 7 to eat. Most customers only come to use the computers, but if they need any help or want to order food they’ll ring the service bell. We offer special service if they order from us, which is that they can request you to do something, within reason. This usually means saying a line or doing a pose, so do your best to please the customer, alright?”

“Hmm?” Ye Xiu blinked. Wait. What was that last sentence?

“We’ll start you off easy, but we’ll want to take advantage of your good genes later. We’ll let you have a trial period tonight, but you can start officially as soon as tomorrow.” She started rummaging through a closet in the back room. She finally pulled out some folded clothing in a box that Ye Xiu assumed was the uniform. “You’re about the same height as xiao Li, so this should fit you. I’ll show you the employee locker rooms!”

In front of the locker rooms, Chen Guo shoved the clothes she was holding into his arms.

“Try it on!”

Ye Xiu looked into the box. “Uh, boss, this... is your uniform?”

“You’re chickening out now?” She smacked his back. “You signed up for this, remember? How can we be Happy Cosplay Internet Cafe, the only cosplay internet cafe in all of China, without the cosplay?!”

Ye Xiu almost choked. “Cosplay?”

Chen Guo face palmed. “Have you been paying attention to your surroundings at all? Or at least been listening to me explaining your work?”

Ye Xiu looked around. At a second glance, it turned out that all the staff were wearing costumes of some sort. He had been so focused on getting out of the cold he really hadn’t noticed it!

He’d probably give a bad impression if he admitted he hadn’t been listening to his new boss though, so he coughed and said, “I’ll go change now.”

If he came out with a slight flush in his cheeks, it was a small matter. Well, maybe not, since Chen Guo had squealed and promptly whipped out her camera and begun snapping pictures of him to post on her Weibo. She gave him a big grin and a thumbs up.

“We’ll give you proper training with wigs and make up later. Can’t wait to have you crossdress~!”

A look of horror passes over Ye Xiu’s face. Just what did he sign up for?

(2) Su Mucheng

Dancing Rain: Big bro, you doing alright?

Lord Grim: dw, I got a job!

Dancing Rain: lol who would hire you. Your only skill is gaming

Dancing Rain: you should go back to my place! I’ll provide for you, and you can be my housewife!

Lord Grim: ...

Lord Grim: that was mean.

Dancing Rain: where did you get a job?

Lord Grim: Happy Internet Cafe!

Dancing Rain: you mean that cosplay cafe across the street?

Lord Grim: ...

Dancing Rain: omg are you in cosplay rn???

Lord Grim: ...

Dancing Rain: im coming over

Lord Grim: dont.

Lord Grim: mucheng im warning you

Lord Grim: It’s an internet cafe. What if you get mobbed?

Dancing Rain: dw im good at disguises!

It turned out that Mucheng’s “disguise” consisted of a pair of glasses, a hat, and a face mask. Yup, real subtle Mucheng. Everyone was thinking that, but no one dared approach. Why would Su Mucheng even go to an internet cafe across the street from Excellent Era after all? When Chen Guo took her id card, she nearly started screaming, but was quieted by a wink and shushing finger sign. Through the power of fangirling and selfies, Mucheng was able to obtain the whole second floor to herself, as well as Ye Xiu as her personal server. He was currently dressed in a simple school blazer with a blood red wig. Mucheng was snapping pics of him left and right.

Ye Xiu sweatdropped. “You better not post these.”

“I know,” she said plainly. “These are for my personal enjoyment. Besides, I’m supposed to get a ‘special service’ with my ice cream. So keep still while I take more photos.”

Later Chen Guo dreamily asked him, “Hey, do you think Su Mucheng will come again? Should I build a private room for her? I should build a private room for her.”

Ye Xiu sweatdropped again. Hey, don’t ask me if you’ve already decided.

(3) Huang Shaotian

Tang Rou thought that Huang Shaotian was a creep when he showed up outside around 10pm and covered in scarves, so she went to go get Chen Guo.

“Old Ye!” He whisper yelled, tiptoeing through the door. “Where the hell are you?”

Ye Xiu poked him in the back and the blond puppy jumped five feet in the air. “I’m right here.”

“Shit! You’re Old Ye?!” Huang Shaotian spluttered disbelievingly. To be fair, Ye Xiu was crossdressing, but you’d think that Huang Shaotian would have noticed him.

The short flouncy skirt of the black and white school uniform dress along with the mismatching colorful socks showed off his mile long legs wonderfully, and the orange wig with green highlights had pigtails that framed his handsome face. He was taller than a real girl, with slightly sharper angles, but all in all, he looked really good crossdressing.

“How could you? After all these years of friendship, you’ve forgotten me so soon?” Ye Xiu said in mock sadness.

“Nononono! That’s not it at all! I haven’t forgotten you though maybe I should seeing as you’re an old man dressing up as a girl that is not that you’re some creep or anything but just that you’ve retired and such but I promise I haven’t forgotten you after all you’re probably my best friend after Captain and all of the Blue Rain players and - Hey! Why are you leaving?!”

Ye Xiu turned in the general direction of the word explosion and shrugged. “It’s the end of my shift. I’m going to change.” And he sauntered off toward the back room to change into more comfortable clothes.

Shaotian sneakily grabbed his phone to snag a picture. He grinned down at the photo evidence of the battle god crossdressing.

“There he is, that’s the creep!” Tang Rou had come back with Chen Guo in tow.

“F-shit! I’m not a creep! That Old Ye invited me!”

Chen Guo and Tang Rou looked at each other. A stalker?

“I’m going to have to see your ID.”

Some selfies and monetary transactions later, Huang Shaotian and Ye Xiu were in the private room running through the plan on the boneyard record.

“Hey Old Ye, it says that if I order some food, I can get special service. I’m going to make you PK with me!”

“Not happening.” Ye Xiu refused plainly.

“Why not?! PKPKPK!”

“Because it’s not my shift.” Ye Xiu wasn’t obligated to do anything for anyone right now. He was also tired after a long day taking requests from customers and didn’t want to deal with Shaotian’s shit right now. The boss had also given him a strict bedtime of 1am at the latest and he wanted to get in all of his dungeon runs before then.

“...”

Ye Xiu suddenly felt a chill down his back. Shaotian being silent? Never a good thing.

The next day at 4 pm.

“OLD YE!” A blond fluffball came flying at Ye Xiu. Ye Xiu tumbled to the ground under the unexpected tackle.

“Oh god.”

“PKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPK!”

Six hours later...

“Boss, please kick him out.” Ye Xiu was disheveled and exhausted, pale and looking like he was about to collapse.

Chen Guo paused from counting the money Huang Shaotian had spent on reserving the private room and repeatedly ordering food with service for 6 hours. “....Hmm? What did you say?”

(3.5) All Star Weekend

“Ye Xiu! You’re really Ye Qiu?”

“...Yes.”

“Dammit! We should have charged Huang Shaotian more!”

“...”

(4) Ye Qiu

For the Lunar New Year, it turned out that Ye Qiu had found out he had retired from Excellent Era and was now working at Happy.

“Brother,” he tutted, “Come home for New Years. Do you even have a place to stay?”

“I’m going to work over time!” He just wanted to avoid going home over the holiday and play Glory all day.

“Fine, then I’m going to stay too.”

“Go home little brother. Unless... the boss has been wanting to do twin cosplays...”

“Happy New Year, I have to go attend to mother and little dot! Let me know when you’re coming back already! Bye!” In a flash, Ye Qiu was out the door.

Chen Guo came out of the back room holding a box of costumes. “Why did he leave? I had the cutest matching cosplays for you two!”

(5) Yu Wenzhou

“Captain Yu! What are you doing here?” Ye Xiu was so surprised to see Yu Wenzhou turn up one day that his half and half red and white wig almost fell off.

Yu Wenzhou was disguised in naught but a pair of dark sunglasses. Since Huang Shaotian had turned up the other time, more and more Blue Rain fans had been coming to Happy to see if they could catch a glimpse of their idol. Seeing the captain himself, of course some Yu Wenzhou fans crowded around to see if they could get an autograph. But as they approached, suddenly an ice cold aura appeared, and the fans decided it would probably be a good idea to back off.

“Hello Senior.” The blue-haired captain greeted amiably. “I came to see you in your new place of work.”

A slender hand came up to readjust his wig. “... I meant, how did you find me here?”

Yu Wenzhou smiled and merely handed him a thick wad of cash. “Let’s discuss this in the private room, shall we?”

So Ye Xiu led him up the stairs and Yu Wenzhou explained over coffee and biscuits. “Several weeks ago, Shaotian disappeared after the match with Excellent Era, and later claimed that he wanted to stay in Hangzhou for an extra day to visit family. He has no family in Hangzhou, so of course he must’ve been visiting someone other than family. He clearly lied about it, and as such it couldn’t have been anyone he would publically visit.”

He took another sip of his coffee. “The night he disappeared also happened to be the day the boneyard record was broken by Lord Grim and a swordsman Flowing Tree. Lord Grim is infamous in the tenth server with his technical skill, and he started in the tenth server around the time when you retired. Of course, I had a sneaking suspicion it was you, but Shaotian’s disappearance confirmed it. When he returned after his one day visit to ‘family’ he was in a surprisingly good mood and kept snickering at his phone. Naturally, I confisticated it and searched through the contents. Did you know he had this picture of you on it?”

He held up his phone and Ye Xiu saw that there was a picture of him crossdressing, shot from the back as he walked away to change clothes. It was slightly blurry, as it was dark, and Ye Xiu was surprised (but not that surprised) to know that Yu Wenzhou could recognize him even though the view was from the back and he had been in costume.

“That little brat!” Ye Xiu exclaimed. “Who would take advantage of such a good-looking guy like me, taking pictures of me on the sly?”

Yu Wenzhou put the picture away, ignoring the self-proclaimed ‘good-looking’ god. Ye Xiu noted that he didn’t delete the picture though. Wenzhou continued with his explanation. “When I saw this, I knew immediately that Shaotian had not gone to visit family but had rather gone to visit you at your workplace. A quick search of cosplay cafe and Hangzhou turned up this place. Did you know that this is the only cosplay internet cafe in China?”

“...Your deductive work is too scary Captain Yu.” Ye Xiu sighed. “So what did you hope to gain by coming here?”

Yu Wenzhou gave a little smile. “I was hoping to perhaps chat about some tactics and maybe play a match or two.”

Ye Xiu cracked his knuckles and began stretching out his arms in preparation. “It’ll be 100 yuan for each match, and you’ll need to buy food for any other requests.”

Yu Wenzhou tilted his head. “Hmm?”

“Boss’s rules.”

“Ah.”

(6) Zhang Xinjie and Han Wenqing

When Han Wenqing and Zhang Xinjie came to Happy Cosplay Internet Cafe one evening, they didn’t even bother disguising themselves despite being in the midst of Excellent Era territory, in fact, literally across the street from their so-called rivals.

A whisper chorus of boos echoed up from the computers. The quiet protest was quickly vanquished with the signature Han Wenqing GlareTM, resulting in the offenders groveling on the floor, offering their wallets as penitence.

All the commotion brought Chen Guo over. She reflexively wanted to jump back when he turned his gaze to her, but she held her ground and offered, “What can Happy Cosplay Internet Cafe do for you today, God Han, God Zhang?”

“Where’s Ye Qiu?”

Zhang Xinjie smoothed out the conversation. “We would like to rent out the private room and talk with Senior Ye if possible.”

“It’s 200 yuan per match and you need to order food for any other requests. The private room has a lock. Ye Xiu can let you in.”

Han Wenqing picked up a wallet off the floor, and dropped it on the counter, much to the dismay of one unfortunate booer.

“Yo Old Han.” Today Ye Xiu was dressed in a cute sailor themed idol costume with a long dark colored wig. He gave a mock salute. “Never thought I’d see the two of you here in a cosplay cafe in Excellent Era territory no less.”

“Never thought I’d see you here crossplaying at an internet cafe across the street from Excellent Era after having retired no less,” the older player spat back.

“Let’s go upstairs and fight in the arena instead of in the lobby, Captain, Senior.”

Ye Xiu laughed and led the two of them to the stairs. “You first.”

Zhang Xinjie, feeling that it was out of character for Ye Xiu to be polite asked, “Why don’t you go first, senior?”

“Gasp, Xiao Zhang! How perverted! You want to peek under my skirt as I go up the stairs, don’t you?”

Xinjie turned all shades of red and blurted, “That wasn’t it at all!”

Han Wenqing was not amused. “If we wanted a peek we would just lift it up. Now show me that unspecialized character of yours.” He began pushing Ye Xiu up the stairs.

“Ooh how brazen, Old Han.”

(7) Tiny Herb

Business at Happy was booming. Not only was Chen Guo obtaining more business from users hoping to see their favorite pro player, but she was able to charge the visiting pro players exorbitant amounts and they would gladly pay to play with Ye Xiu. Using the extra money, Chen Guo was able to upgrade the private room upstairs to include a full row of new computers and a comfy couch and coffee table.

The upgrades were a good investment. How else would the entire Tiny Herb pro team be able to fit comfortably into the room?

“Order whatever food you want. The club will pay for it. Don’t forget to think of your requests. You can ask him to do anything reasonable, so make sure you learn from this opportunity.”

“Yes Captain!”

Ye Xiu sighed. Today he was wearing a black and white sailor style girl’s school uniform, along with a short brown wig and white cap. He also had a staff and a stuffed animal to complete the cosplay, but they were too annoying to carry around while playing. “I left Excellent Era so that I didn’t have to be a training partner...” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that senior?” Wang Jiexi blinked his uneven eyes.

“Nothing, nothing. Just a reminder that it’s 300 yuan per person per match and that I require a break between matches. Oh, I know. While you’re waiting for me, you can fight Xiao Tang. I’m coaching her!” He gave a big thumbs up.

The whole ordeal was like one huge party with food and fun and Glory. Tang Rou despite getting utterly smashed bravely continued to fight, earning the respect of Tiny Herb. Ye Xiu then proceeded to crush them all in return. It was a bit depressing to think that all of them combined had still been trounced by a single guy dressed like an elementary school girl.

“Thank you Senior Ye!” exclaimed one Gao Yingjie on the way out.

“Yes. Thank you for your guidance Senior Ye. I hope to be like you someday.” echoed Qiao Yifan.

Ye Xiu patted both on the head. It was nice to see rookies with such enthusiasm. “You two have a lot to learn, but you also have a lot of potential. Keep working hard. And Yifan, why don’t you think about what I said?”

‘Why don’t you try out a Ghostblade! It would suit you!’ Yifan kept thinking of this phrase over and over again walking out of the internet cafe, such that he almost bumped into Chen Guo.

“Woah! Careful there.” She steadied him on his feet. “You know, you’re pretty cute.” Chen Guo handed Yifan a business card. “If you ever need a job or even a side job, you should contact me! I have some cute cosplays that would be perfect for you!”

Yifan almost choked. When he said he wanted to be like Senior Ye, he didn’t mean it that way!

(8) Jiang Botao

“So what brings you here by yourself?”

“Senior Ye! Please grant me a request!” Jiang Botao bowed deeply at a 90 degree angle.

“No need to be so formal,” Ye Xiu laughed. “As long as you buy something from here, I’ll be willing to hear you out.”

Jiang Botao ordered a What a Big One ice cream cone. “Sooo...” he started nervously, “ummm.... Please... Allow me to record a message from you to captain!”

“Oh? To Xiao Zhou? What would you like me to say?”

“Please say, ‘Zhou Zekai, Jiayou!’ a-and then umm, please blow a kiss!”

“Hoho? Well, alright get your camera ready!”

Jiang Botao aimed the camera at him portrait-wise, making sure to capture the full picture of Ye Xiu in a purple accented swimsuit and blue and white jacket covering his shirtless torso. He didn’t need a wig this time, but settled for some styling with gel to achieve the character’s likeness.

Ye Xiu grinned, not caring that it was out of character for the cosplay. “Xiao Zhou, Jiayou! Keep working hard!” He winked saucily and blew a kiss.

Jiang Botao was so grateful he kept thanking Ye Xiu over and over again and insisted on giving him extra cash. “For the wink! Please keep it for the wink!”

Later...

“Captain! Please make an effort to connect more with the rookies! They’re all intimidated by your silence!”

“...”

“If you coordinate well with them and get into the playoffs I’ll give you this!” Jiang Botao pressed a button on his phone, playing the video.

“Xiao Zhou, Jiayou! Keep working hard!” *Wink* *kiss*

Zhou Zekai stared at the little screen. “Want... Senior...”

“If you want it, please make an effort to get along!”

Zhou Zekai nodded emphatically.

“If we do well this season, we can go visit him later!”

Zhou Zekai was already walking out the door.

(9) Happy

“God Ye! Is it true that you initially worked as a staff member for Happy Internet Cafe?” Cameras flashed during the press conference following the Challenger League.

Chen Guo butted in, “It’s Happy Cosplay Internet Cafe. Get your facts right!”

“God Ye! Is it true that you engaged in crossplay?”

“It’s not that bad when you get used to it! Besides, my boss says I should show off my ‘legs for days.’”

“God Ye! Is it true that the other members of Happy cosplay as well?”

Chen Guo again interrupted. “At this time I would like to announce the limited edition release of our new cosplay photobook. It includes both group and individual cosplay photos of all of Team Happy. This limited edition will also include a section of Captain Ye’s best cosplays and a new cosplay as One Autumn Leaf. The photobooks will be on sale starting at midnight tonight and will cost 800 yuan. Proceeds will go to the development of Team Happy and also Ye Xiu’s costume repertoire. Thank you for your patronage.”

All the reporters gossipped among themselves. The males complained it was way too expensive, more than double the price of other costume books, but were quite sorely tempted by the One Autumn Leaf photo. The females wanted to see those legs for days.

The clubs were some of the first to buy the books when they came on sale. When questioned why they wanted to help the enemy the teams merely said, for research. Yeah, for research.

And so, Team Happy became the most influential team in the alliance for the sole reason of Ye Xiu fangirling.

//End notes: *sweating* Yeah this totally fits the prompt. “Ye Xiu has retired from Glory and departs Excellent Era but doesn’t head to Happy Internet Cafe and become a night manager.” Hahaha *runs away*//

#fanfiction #mine #my writing #the king's avatar #qzgs #allye #cosplay #crackfic #drabblesandwriting

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sweetinfires-blog · 6 years

Text

BTS Valentine’s Image/Scenario [Hyung Line]

Hello! Admin Crys here to share these drabble/scenarios that drifted in my head whilst thinking of Valentine’s! This is my first time doing something like this, so feel free to give feedback on how I can make it more intriguing! Hope you enjoy~

BTS Image: Spending Valentine’s together.

Contains: Angst, Fluff

**Disclaimer!! Some images may not be to your liking as it may contain lgbt+ content/ unhappy content. If you do not like the idea, pls do not be rude and simply scroll past this post!**

Jin

You were finally going to meet up with Jin after months. Luckily, his schedule allowed him to have a little vacation around the same time as Valentine’s day. You and Jin weren’t dating; just maintaining that rather close friendship. You two became close through mutual friends a year ago and have been seeing each other quite intimately. A few ‘dates’ here and there, stealing his sweaters, casual skinship, and “if we’re both single by 30, we might as well marry” jokes. It was that kind of bond.

Stepping into the winter snow, you tightly gripped the red box closer to your frame bracing yourself against the frosty breeze. Jin invited the two of you to a small hot pot restaurant near his uncle’s farm, the place of his vacation for the time being. As you walked in, you noticed the bright blonde sat dead center of the restaurant. He was too concentrated on the menu to notice you until you pulled open the chair in front of him. “__ !” He greeted you excitedly.

“Blonde? Again? You know you and that hair color make my heart throb!” You half joked as you sat in front of him. “OH?? A present for me?” Jin asked as you placed the red box into the seat next to you. You giggled at his excitement. “Yes, but you get to open it after we are done eating, ok?” The ends of his plump lips curled up as nodded in agreement.

After you two were done eating, you finally had a moment to talk freely. Eating with Jin was pure sport. Both of you focused on the food in front of you both were barely able to speak as you devoured your food. “Ah, looks like the sun has already set, should I drop you home?” Jin prompted. Right then, your phone chimed indicating a text. You shook your head at him. “It’s fine Jinnie, I think my ride is here,” you waved your phone slightly. All he did was smile before getting up from the table with you and taking you to the entrance of the restaurant.

Coming up to the cashier, you reached into your pouch for payment. Jin gripped at your wrist to stop your gesture. “I’ll pay,” he explained, “it is Valentine’s day after all.” You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat at his manner. He was truly a gentleman through and through. “Thank you,” was all you could manage to say as you took in his features. Big, brown eyes. A tall nose. Soft, plump lips. Just the right height to have your head buried in the crook of his neck as you hug. Broad shoulders that you leaned on through tough times.

“Shall we head out?” Jin interrupted your daze. You nodded and walked back out into the snow. A black car pulled up right in front of the curb, and before you could speak a word to him, he hits your heart directly.

“I guess we can’t marry anymore, since your wedding is tomorrow, huh?” He asks woefully. You pursed your lips and held back the tears forming in your eyes. “I..Happy Valentine’s Day,” you whispered as you pecked his cheek good bye. Before you walked away, you gave him the red box. “My presents to you,” you kept your voice low as you were to scared he might notice your heartache.

As he watched you get into the black car, he faintly saw your fiance kiss you on the cheek as you did him. Once you were out of his sight, he opened the box to see his old sweater that you would wear frequently during movie nights, simple errand runs together, and other nights in together. He took it out from the box and a little envelope fluttered out onto his foot. A simple “I will always love you” written on the face of the envelope. He opened it up and saw the reality of it all. Your wedding invitation.

Yoongi

Faintly stepping through the doors of the Genius Lab, you placed your coat, pouch, and a little black box accented with a tiny bow onto the couch next to the entrance. Yoongi sat anchored to his desk playing with a few chords on his piano. It was nearly 1AM, February 14th. Valentine’s Day.

You and Yoongi never really scheduled dates, or so you called them, but this time he specifically asked you to visit him. Although it was late, you didn’t mind. You were use to meeting up at ungodly hours due to hectic work schedules. As you gingerly made your way behind his seat, you snaked your arm around his neck and whispered for him to take a break. He looked up at you with a smirk and brought a hand to cup your face. “If it isn’t my beautiful muse,” he grinned.

As your cheeks heated, you backed away from him. “Muse.” It was a beautiful thing to be, but also a reminder you were nothing more to him than a source of inspiration for his music. He was intrigued with many things he found in you. College drop out, check. Strong sense of justice, check. Humble yet cunning, check. Unique career that paid the bills, check.

“So..the gift?” He looked at you with a glint in his eyes. You smiled and ruffled his hair before making your way to pick up the tiny black box you laid on the couch. You tossed it towards him as you sat on the couch. He caught it showing his gummy smile. “Thank you, _ ! I hope he’ll like it!” He got up, shrugged on his coat and came up to peck your cheek goodbye. Before he walked through the door he made sure to have your heart aching again unintentionally. “I love you, my muse. Thank you for introducing us!” And as the door closed behind him, you broke down once again knowing you were only a muse. He could never love you the way you loved him, or how he loved him.

Hoseok

Although most of the members took time to rest during their vacation, Hoseok was still as busy as ever. Spending time with family, meeting up with old dance friends, and then going to Japan for TV show appearances with Jimin. You both made due with the little communication despite his strong worth ethics and passion. You couldn’t complain.

Valentine’s would mark the 100th day of being official. Since the special day fell on a Wednesday, and Hoseok was still in Japan, you both decided to at least spend if together through webcam. He was ecstatic to finally see you and hear your voice. “Baby, say my name~” He’d whine just to hear you call out for him. You giggled and called out for him. “Hoseok-ah~ I miss you~ Do you know what today is~?” You asked coyly. “Of course! Happy Valentine’s Day, my love~” he blew a kiss straight to your heart. Despite distance, this man really knew how to get you all giddy and bashful. But that response wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t know if it was because you were being too overly invested into the relationship, but you had a sliver of hope he’d also wish you a happy 100th day anniversary. So, you acted coy again to pry. “What else~? Today is extra extra special!” You mimicked a baby voice in attempts of acting cute. “Ah~ What else is today? OH! It’s special because I finished the last track to my mixtape!” He beamed. He had sent you the track file earlier in the day along with him dancing to it at a dance studio with his old female dance crew member. You had almost forgot about how jealous you were of his old friends.

“Mmm, what else~? Nothing else~?” You whined. He furrowed his eyes, and before he could speak, his manager came into his room. “Ah, one moment, babe! Manager Sejin just came in, I’ll be right back!” And he shuffled to across his hotel room. A foreboding feeling overtaking you. You felt your smile begin to sink down, and you tried to hold down a frown. It had only been about 20 minutes into the video call and you hoped it wouldn’t be cut short since it was a special day .. to you at least.

Hoseok came shuffling back in front of his laptop with a wide grin, so you thought it best to suck it up and do the same displaying a big smile. It slowly faded though, as you saw someone come up behind the seat at his desk. The women from the video earlier. Dancing, and laughing, and obviously listening to his mixtape track first as they had to choreograph to it. You felt a sting of jealous in your chest. “Babe! This is Kazane!” You both slightly bowed to each other through the webcam as he continued on. “I forgot today I had promised to practice with her and a few others at the studio..” he explained rubbing his neck. He peered up at you and saw your head droop. “Ah, __ ~” he spoke in a low voice, “I’m sorry, I know it’s a day for couples, and love and all, but-” You interjected him. “But, you’ll be back soon. Right?” You glanced at him. “It’s fine, you’re there to work anyways. I’ll see you back here, in Seoul, soon..” You spoke, voice slowly fading to a mumble.

“I’m sorry __, I’ll make it up to you. I promise!” He blew you another kiss and got up from his seat. “You always promise..” you whispered. “What was that, babe?” Hoseok asked tilting his head to the side like a puppy. “Nothing special~ Happy Valentine’s, Hoseok-ah,” you spoke softly through a half-hearted smile. “Bye bye~” he grinned, and hung up the call.

No recollection of your 100th day anniversary. Not one I love you. No sense of contemplation. He was just too in love with his work as you were with him. But you couldn’t help stop loving such a passionate man even if his passion wasn’t you just yet.

Namjoon

To your surprise, your long time friend Kim Namjoon invited you out on a date. Not just any date at that; A date on Valentine’s Day. Many of the Bangtan boys hinted his admiration for you. You just refused to believe it yourself since he was you secret crush since highschool. After being asked out on a date by the man himself, you felt a sudden confidence surge through you.

A chime from your phone rang as you finished styling your hair. “Hey, I’m in the lobby. Take your time, just wanted you to know I’m already here. See you soon, beautiful -KNJ” You slipped on a pair of suede tan shoes to accompany your navy blue attire. As you head down to the lobby, you couldn’t help but grin the entire time. Stepping out of the elevator, you noticed him right away. He sat near the entryway on the wide wooden bench. The sun from outside shining behind him as if was his personal spotlight. He sat casually, one foot propped up on the bench with an elbow rested on its knee. The free hand behind him as he leaned his weight back. And like magic, his eyes locked on yours instantly as you made your way. He got up to greet you, gingerly sticking his arm out for you to grab onto as he lead the way out. “And how are you this fine afternoon?” He asked as you both walked to his car, arm in arm. “I’m actually a bit .. nervous?” You truthfully explained. “Aw, it won’t be good if we’re both nervous now, won’t it? Let’s just both relax and enjoy our date,” he smiled opening the passenger side door of his car for you.

Instead of a cliche restaurant date, Namjoon took you to a little cafe holding free painting lessons for a Valentine’s date. “Hey, whichever drawing the teacher likes best wins ok?” Namjoon suggested. “Hah! Let’s do it! You know I studied oil panting, I don’t even think this will be a competition,” you provoked. “Oh, we’ll see,” he smirked.

As you went on to paint, you set your supplies across from Joon. Both your the backs of your canvases facing each other. The subject of your art piece was to paint your date. Portraits were nothing to you, it was your specialty per say. You began to work diligently, sketching Joon’s face first. His slim jawline, the sharp eyes that were taking in your features just as intently as you took in his. Full lips that you craved on yours. A small noses you often pressed with a little ‘boop’ to make him stop frowning.

2 hours into the workshop, you two were finally done. “Ready to reveal our work to the teach?” You cocked up an eyebrow with confidence. “Alright,” he got up and grabbed his canvas, still showing you only the backside of it. “Can’t I see myself before you show her? I’m kinda ... worried how you painted me,” you tried to peer over the canvas, but he simply wrapped an arm around you and lead you to the teacher. As she looked at the two artworks very intently, you were sure you’d win. But, as she placed the two pieces back down in front of the two of you, you noticed that you were no match for Namjoon. He painted you as he saw you. Your lips the exact color of your favorite shade of coral. Your eyes almost shining like diamonds were placed in them. But what was so astonishing was the fact he painted you crying.

“Uhm..” he broke your silence with a low tone. “I know it’s not how you looked at the moment,” he took your hands in his, “but every time I miss you, every time I close my eyes when we are apart, I always remember your tears,” he whispers. He brought one hand up to cup your cheek. You furrowed your brows in confusion. “My.. my tears? I get that we’ve known each other so long, and you’ve ... yea, you’ve witnessed me at my lowest, but .. why?” “Because I regret it. The day you were at your lowest. The day I lied to you. The moment I said I’d never love you like the way you loved me,” he gazed deep into your eyes. Your vision began to blur slightly as his painting was coming to life. Tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” He wiped the tears away with his thumbs and peppered kisses on your forehead. “I love you, __ , I’ll make sure you’ll only cry from happiness from now on.” His soft lips pressing onto yours and you smiled into his kiss. “I love you, too, Kim Namjoon.”

Maknae Line

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survivorunfinishedbusiness · 6 years

Text

Episode #3 - “I Stand For The Flag, I Kneel At The Cross” - Amanda

https://survivorunfinishedbusiness.tumblr.com/post/175489103003/immunity-challenge-3

Moral of the story, never trust a weeaboo goombitch

Audaux or whatever that fucking tribe's name is is dead to me. They are worth nothing. SCUM. Scum is what they are. Liars. Their word is worth nothing in this game and neither are they. Unlike them I've got an idol. Time's ticking. And sooner or later their times gonna be up.

im overwhelmed

https://survivorunfinishedbusiness.tumblr.com/post/175491921028/announcement

Amanda is removed from the game.

I’m not a Christian but I know who Monique Heart is. “Therefore whatever you have said in the dark shall be heard in the light, and what you have whispered in private rooms shall be proclaimed on the housetops.” Luke 12:3

oh wow. This game really took a turn for the worst huh. Nicholas left, Dani exploded, one world and a swap happened, tea was spilled, my closest ally was removed from the game, and Athena is ending after this season. I would like it to be known that I had absolutely no idea Amanda was so problematic and would not have gotten so close to her had I known! I'm taking this whole night kinda hard because it's like a punch in the face for me, not only because it hinders my game but also because it's so sad that I had gotten so close to Amanda these past few days and it's honestly super tragic what happened. I literally had no idea she was problematic and I had grown to care for her. I'm def just gonna take the night off and try to gather my bearings before I try to focus on the game or anyone else in it for now. Today has been insanely exhausting. Tomorrow is a new day and I fully intend to play just as hard (if not harder) as I was before, but I'm probably gonna have to start back at square 1. Wish me luck!!

So, tribal went exactly as I planned, and the swap happened... just as planned. However, Amanda wasn't something I had planned or even considered happening. Like, it's crazy when you think you know somebody, but then it turns out they are actually a 180 of what you think they are... Naturally this throws the Night Owls into serious haywire, and honestly, it might as well be a new game only with less allies at this point.

Well, Dani as it turns out is the Abi-Maria type, you know "fuck with me, you're dead." Good news is that I'm on a different tribe. Bad news is that I went in that tribal with 6 people willing to work with me, and walked out with 2.

https://youtu.be/BKWTR3cUibk

As time goes on, I'm slowly feeling a bit better about my tribe, but we'll see how I'm feeling when/if we go to tribal. Bodhi surprisingly seems less upset than Dani, almost makes me glad I got him instead of Dani. (Though having Colin and Timmy would have been ideal for me.)

Hi hosts I haven't made a confessional yet. honestly last night was wild like. i was drinking because i'm on vacaytion and that's what you do and like i started drinking like RIGHT when ryan sent the letter so i knew this was gonna be an interesting night so i kept on doing it and i was definitely gone. so yeah my tribes cool i like dani a lot. hopefully her drama will keep us alive. i don't know who's from what tribe but i do know anna and i are the only ones from talio on a tribe of 8 so that's really cute!

Okay so... last night was a hot mess. We tribe swap but then get put on One World with a scary pairs challenge, but then everyone fights Amanda Lynn for blindsiding Nicholas, THEN she gets exposed and quits the game. Omg Dani’s mind... So now I’m on a new tribe so let’s assess them! Super happy Andrew is with me. My closest ally from the old tribe that I can trust. Nathan and Nicole are here too, but they seem like a tighter duo with each other than us. I just hope they don’t do any shady business. Super happy to be reunited with Bodhi, we were a duo in B.B. pokémon but it might be known with Julia on this tribe. Speaking of Julia, don’t think we’re on good terms. She doesn’t like me so I’m not gonna bother messaging her. I played furby with Colin, we didn’t talk much there though. He tells me he lead the blindside against Nicholas and Kori was with him too so they’re probably working together. And then there’s Isaac, don’t have an opinion of him. Let’s just hope this phase of the game goes swimmingly.

https://survivorunfinishedbusiness.tumblr.com/post/175509590398/immunity-challenge-4

OK WOW THAT AMANDA LYNN DRAMA I THINK SORTA SAVED ME! I WAS PAIRED WIHT JAKE! IN THAT PAIRED UP WHAT EVER CRAP TURN LEFT TURN RIGHT BULLSHIT! and well i was most definitely going to turn right on his ass. Bc i know for a fact he was lying to me i know he was also turning right. IM NOT DUMB JAKE! sooo i was shook! bc like i didnt know all that wud play out. BUT THEN QUEEN JAY B. EXPOSED AMANDA LYNNS ASS! WHICH GETS HER PRETTY MUVH REMOVED/WALKED FROM THE GAME! which means no dumb pairs! sooo now we r on this one world tribal beach for like no reason ! ahah. but yeah i pretty much trust no one on my tribe like at all. BESIDES DANI A FUCKING QUEEN ! DANI I FUCKING LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AN BACK! <3 well im on the ugly audax tribe now. and i need to make a video DR about other stuff

ali and emily TY TY FOR PUTTING ANNA on my tribe after the swap! SHE IS A GODDESS ON THE UNDERWORLD <3 (mean this in a good way) she is definitely a slytherin sooo cunning! ME AN HER BOTH BEING POTS AND VILLAINS OF OUR GAMES AND BEING ON THE SAME TRIBE <3 wow ty for rigging us together <3 SHE IS MY QUEEN! LIKE i hope she is bein genuine wiht me right now bc i want to work with her sooo bad!

Before my first tribal https://youtu.be/RfsGDjeD9_w After my first tribal https://youtu.be/NDCkPgw75II

https://youtu.be/M4bMaLxzwpY Update on what I said about Blake though: we both like the same shows so that’s amazing because they’re Netflix shows which are my favorite.

Ali won't tell me where the idols are. That fucking snake this is why I told the hosts I refused to play with him.

Well, now that the Amanda fiasco has been said and done, I feel good about AJ and Julia in my tribe, meanwhile I still have Colin and I'm trying to work on a potential 5th, if we can get 5 that's a majority in a possible vote, and then I can move through this tribe fearlessly.

I dunno how I feel about the challenge, because it feels like one that if I'm in, I could definitely drop the ball, and as a result be the target, which would SUCK like majorly.

Hi My name is john coffey And yes I drink coffee.

https://survivorunfinishedbusiness.tumblr.com/post/175523828513/immunity-results-4

Talio wins immunity, sending Audax is sent to tribal council.

I'm a little late with this confession but Amanda got removed cus sis, she's homophobic, bye.

17 more to go.

So theres some annoying beef going on between Timmy and Dani and I mean I might as well be annoying and call them out about it in the tribe chat. It's the last season of Athena we gotta spice shit up.

So much is happening, I wanted Dani out, Dani wanted me out, Mo was trying to instigate stuff in the tribe chat. Once the challenge results were posted Ryan was messaging me saying that we should keep the 4 of us who were in the challenge safe because we need strong competitors and I agreed. Then after that I heard from Anna that Dani was saying my name, which is fucked up because she (Dani) had just said last night that she wants to put the past behind us. But honestly, and this is going to sound really stupid, after the Mo thing in the tribe chat, I'd much rather have him gone. The way to do that is to work with Dani and just let everything out into the open. Especially since Mo said, both in PMs and in the tribe chat, that he is trying a more assertive and bold strategy. Don't reveal your strategy, that's stupid. So Dani and I have been talking and we want Mo out because that seems like the best idea right now because he is trying to personify that there is an issue between us. I can get Anna on board and she seems like she would agree to it based on a small talk about it and Dani said she got John. But also John hasn't responded to my last message so....that's something. Trusting Dani could be what gets me out of this game and I really could be booboo the fool, but sometimes risks need to be taken. I'm just hoping that I can convince Ryan that this is the smarter plan, or maybe he can talk some sense into me and then Dani goes. Either way I don't want to be the one leaving tomorrow and I'm going to try everything to make sure that that does not happen. But right now it is 1am and I can get nothing accomplished this late, so that will have to wait until tomorrow where hopefully I don't wake up to a tribe chat on fire.

ofc my tribe loses. Tribal council loves "ana" ;) @ emily anyway dani and timmy are fighting which makes it sooo easy to just sit back and vote one of them BUT i really like timmy. and Dani is close to Blake and Ryan who I have an alliance chat with so I don't think they will vote her. Naturally I threw out the idea to keep BOTH of them for the drama and since Dani is going to go after Colin, Kori AND Timmy she will make such a great meat shield even in the future. So I threw out Mo's name. We were originally not going to vote anyone who competed in the challenge but Mo took literally so long, 5 minutes longer than the person on the other tribe and Ryan had gotten him a beautiful lead. Ofc I was 2 minutes slower but hear me out. Apparently in the jeopardy challenge he had bad internet or something and flopped and let everyone down. So thats kinda 2 in a row. Don't get me wrong, I think he's a super nice guy and I get why everyone loves him BUT him and I's convo's seem to run dry. Compared to people like Blake or Ryan who I want to talk to all the time, I don't see myself working with him closely in the future. So we will see. Looks like its gonna be one of those three!

it's me again. SO last night mo was like stirring the pot or something and tried having like an intervention with dani and timmy. or like, relationship therapy i guess. BUT it seems like little mo's fun backfired because mr timmy came to me this morning and it appears he and dani have kissed and made up and now they want little mo out. gay gagging! anna's on board i think. and it doesn't seem like vindicta is united. i know john said he didn't really connect with everyone so that's good. and timmys gonna pull in RTP so we can vote out mo. so that's fun!

The numbers to get Mo out seem to be there so I am thrilled! We don't need someone who is going to try to cause drama just so they can then hide in the shadows. The difficult part comes next and that is telling Ryan that Mo is the target, but I am hoping that will go well because the numbers are already there, and I'll phrase it in a way that is me asking him rather than saying it is already happening...even though it is.

Kori is literally.... like... insane. Every single time I'm on a call with him and one other person he offers a 'voice chat' alliance to f3. We've had one with Timmy since night 1, made one with Nathan yesterday, and he also offered one to Isaac. It's literally too much I'm screaming. Straights are WILD.

LAST MINUTE DR.... I WON IMMUNITY WOOOO BUT I THINK THE FIRST TIME I DONT IM GONE GBVFDJGNVFD

https://survivorunfinishedbusiness.tumblr.com/post/175556933558/tribal-council-4-audax

Mo is sent home by a vote of 6-1. You can watch his preseason interview here.

#writeanewchapter #episodes

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