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#I’m still SICKLY in love with a guy from highschool
ralyks-core · 3 years
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The City of Forks Welcomes You (Chapter One)
Jacob Black x Reader, Eventual Paul Lahote x Reader
Words: 1,047
AN: Thank you guys for your patience the past month has been very chaotic for me, I hope you all are still interested in what I have to offer haha!
I stepped into Bella’s room looking around.
“Here.” She thrusts the laptop in my hands before pushing me out of her room, “I want it back in a few hours or else.”
“Yes ma’am” I nod solemnly, before cracking a smile.
She glares at me slightly, but I can tell she’s not actually annoyed. “Listen y/n, if you don’t give it back i’ll be forced to…execute you, so take this seriously.” She laughs slightly.
“As the plague”, I nod.
I watch as she cringes slightly, how weird.
I step into “my” bedroom, and sigh. I missed my belongings, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to go home— at least not by myself.
I sat on the bed and turned on the laptop,
“Jeez Bella you have enough tabs open?” I glare at the screen closing some of them but pausing when one of them piques my interest.
“Bella!” I shout, taking the laptop with me.
I burst into her room, not really caring that Edward was stood in the corner. “What the fuck is this? Is this your idea of a sick joke?!” I turn the computer towards her, my eyes stinging slightly.
“N-no y/n that was from forever ago I was-“
"Halloween costumes, y/n. Bella and I were discussing Halloween costumes. She thought it would be suitable for us to-.”
I glare at Edward, “Wow. that's what you’re going with? Whatever.” I shove the laptop in Bella’s hands before walking out completely forgetting about my project.
I slam open the door to leave, but Charlie, Billy, and Jacob all stood there as if they were about to come in. “Excuse me, sorry.” I smile weakly, slinking around everyone and walking off into the forrest.
The crunch of leaves behind me told me told me someone, presumably Jacob, was following me.
“Go away Jacob.”
“Yeah, like thats gonna happen.” I could feel his eye roll despite not seeing it. “You barely know these woods y/l/n.” He falls in step with me.
“You can come with but I’m not going back to the house if thats what you’re trying to get at.” I say bitterly.
“I never mentioned goin back did I y/cnn”
“Don’t call me that.” I cringe thinking of being a child and my mom calling me that.
“Oh c’mon y/n lighten up, you used to love being called that.” He slightly walks into me.
“Yeah, when I was 9 and it wasn’t embarrassing.” I pout.
We walked in silence for the most part, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. I glanced over a few times at him blushing slightly.
“You’re not very subtle.” He teases.
“I’m not doing anything I just got tired of looking to my right, okay!?” I blush deeply looking away.
“Damn y/n are you always this defensive-“ I stare at him warningly.
“Alright”, he puts his hands up in mock surrender, “whatever you say y/cnn.”
“Stop calling me that J!” I punch his arm.
“Okay, ow,” he whines, “you’re mean. I regret hanging out with you.”, he says playfully.
“Oh i’m sorry princess, do you want me to kiss it better?” I ask sickly sweet.
His fake pout quickly turns into a smirk, “Yes I do.”
I glare up at him, flustered.
“Well you can’t back out now, you’re the one who offered.”, he muses.
“I didnt think you’d take me up on it.”
“Well thats a you problem y/n.”
I sigh and stop walking, turning towards him.
He laughs as he extends his arm; I gently kiss his shoulder where I had smacked him previously.
“Happy?” I say looking away quite clearly embarrassed.
“Very.” He grins guiding us back to the house.
I found myself feeling more relaxed and a lot happier by the time we got back.
I was relieved to rekindle our friendship. After I moved I never saw much of him at all, and with moving back, I didn’t really make any friends in highschool. I kept mainly to myself and occasionally I spoke to Edward or even Alice. I tried not to cling onto Bella too much, she seemed to be battling her own demons.
“Do you wanna come to La Push on Friday?” He asked me, breaking my thoughts.
“Yeah. I’d like that.” I smile genuinely for the first time in a long time.
“Ladies first” Jacob smiles as he gestures for me to go up the steps and into the house.
“After you princess” I wink before stepping up the first step.
“Well if you insist” He yanks me back down the step before heading in front of me.
“You’re so mean to me!” I whine before following behind him.
“You’re the one that offered y/cnn” he glances back at me laughing slightly.
“You nearly choked me with my shirt collar and you’re laughing about it” I gasp in mock offence “You’re trynna kill me!”
“Maybe I a-“
I slam into Jacob’s back as he pauses suddenly tensing up. I jump up and see over his shoulder; Bella and Edward were coming down the stairs holding hands.
The tension was palpable and I had to slink under Jacob’s arm to get further into the house.
“Are you heading off again Bella?” I ask as I slide off my shoes, feeling less angry with her.
“Yeah uh, we’re going to Edwards for dinner. Esme planned it all… and it’d be rude to decline..”she said staring at Edward, not even bothering to look in our direction.
“Well thats kinda rude when Jacob and Billy came all this was for dinner here, I’m sure you and Edward can stay a while.” I say a tad bit upset on Jacobs behalf.
Charlie walked out of the kitchen, “She already asked and I said she could go. Billy said Jacob wouldn’t mind since you’re here, y/n” Charlie pats my back and smiles up at Bella, “Bring her back by a decent hour.”
“Yessir, I promise.” Edward states before guiding Bella past Jacob and I.
I turn and give Jacob an apologetic look, but he shrugs it off and slings an arm around my shoulder “Well, y/l/n it looks like we’re stuck together now”
“Aw, such a shame” I shake my head and we walk into the kitchen to help set the table for dinner.
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wonnoy · 3 years
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early mornings and heavy hangovers
okay i decided to do the lil nsfw on tsukishima and take my time doing it - im just a tad bit held back by school deadlines rn
i also don’t drink at all so drunky time may not be as accurate as it could be lol
___ warnings: nsfw, drinking (not like bad drinking), head (receiving)
kei and you are close friends after you guys graduated from highschool and after (whether it seem weird or not) had daily night gatherings with yamaguchi, kageyama and hinata where you guys all crash at a certain person’s home. 
Everyone was boisterously yelling at the top of their lungs in your tiny home, each one desperate to be a heard a cut louder than the rest. You were obviously among them, clanging your beer in your hand on your poor wooden coffee table. 
It was the first of July, and at every first of every month, a couple of your closest highschool friends would converge together. It was your time to house the rambunctious group of people. You didn’t even worry about noise complaints that were sure to come in the next morning. 
“OKAY, but LISTEN to mi,” Hinata stood up on Yamaguchi’s back, teetering and swaying all over the place. His words were heavily slurred and dragged out as he waved a beer can around. 
As he was about to open his mouth again, Kageyama threw an empty bag of chips balled up at him, “shut up BOKE!” he yelled. Kageyama was an angry drunk, very assertive. 
Yamaguchi was, well... You glanced over at him giggling like mad on the floor after Hinata fell off him. That’s most likely self-explanatory. Hinata was energetic as hell and an incredible lightweight just like Kageyama. Yamaguchi was surprisingly a heavy drinker just like Tsukishima. 
You chugged down the last of your beer and glanced over at him. He always looked so serious, even with his face flushed red and being very clearly drunk. He was a quiet drunk - he never spoke much while he drank but would occasionally mutter a sassy comment about someone else in the group. 
You slouched over to Yamaguchi and heavily propped yourself up against his side. You were a touchy drunk. You took a swig from your can and felt the heavy liquid swish down through your body lighting nerves into another frenzy. You were a sickly warm but that’s what came with you being drunk.
“Yama boy,” you threw the arm holding the can outwards as if spilling a great story, “do you eat... butta?” you tried to say bread. Yamaguchi threw himself into another fit of giggles as he laughed at you. Disturbed you slinked over to Tsukishima. 
You threw your body down into his lap and looked up at him. 
“And what do you eat kind sire,” your free hand slapped his cheek. He flinched from the contact and it looked like he wanted to kill you. You could just see the glint of his glasses as he looked away from yourself and hiding his eyes. 
“I eat way more than just butter,” he grumbled and drank more from his cup. You smile and then lifted just your head off of his lap to peer at both Kageyama and Hinata. Hinata was furiously trying to turn himself into a stool, repeatedly shouting that he was a frog wizard. Kageyama had grown quiet as he passed out on your coffee table. For some odd reason his pants were missing. Yamaguchi looked around the room and went into another hysteria. The drink he had in his hand went flying and it flew smack dab on your stomach drenching you. 
“Yama-” you started but were interrupted by Tsukishima calmly reaching over and smacking him right on the head and knocking him clean out. Holy shit. Watching him do that sobered you up slightly and you gave him a smack on the back of his head as well. Why the hell did he hit him so hard, the asshole.
“You killed him,” you began to scramble your way out of his lap to see if Yamaguchi still had a damn pulse. But Tsukishima wasn’t just about to let you out of his lap, well at least not without a fight. Your wiggled around, a tango of hands grasping at things as you both fought one another. At one point you were so close to getting out of his lap - crawling your way over to Yamaguchi. 
One hand was outstretched to his neck but Tsukishima grabbed you by your hips and landed you right back onto him. You landed hard, bum first, right into his lap and you could hear a loud grunt of air come from the man behind you. Your hand had always managed to smack him on the side of the head with the momentum of you flying backwards into him. 
Your back was slightly flattened into his chest, his hands still caressing your hips as you sat in between his legs. The knuckles on your left hand were gently kissing his face as you moved to get it off his face. But he nuzzled into it, letting out a puff of air onto the back of your hand. It was warm and made your skin slightly moist. 
You kept your hand there and looked over to where Kageyama and Hinata were. They were both passed out - Hinata was now wearing one of your boots on his head while Kageyama was still missing his pants and hunched over the table. 
You glanced back over to Yamaguchi, Tsukishima had to have hit him pretty hard as he still hasn’t moved. One of your fingers was enveloped by Tsukishima’s mouth and you almost made an audible noise. He was suckling on your pointer finger, swirling his tongue over it and occasionally nipping at it with his teeth. A foreign and strangely arousing feeling. 
You moved your butt around on his lap and his mouth froze. You pulled your finger his mouth, the tip of it now resting against his lips. His fingers were pushing hard into your skin as you both sat there in a tension filled silence. You mouth around once more and you could hear his breathing become a little ragged. Something was growing against the curve of your ass, slightly prodding at your panty covered heat. You trailed your other hand, the one that wasn’t on his face, to the front of his body and moving down to the nether region. He pressed his chest harder into your back with each inch your hand traveled down his body before they rested at the hem of the pants he wore today. 
Your fingers easily found their way in, nudging their way down to a now massive bulge resting against your palm. You could tell it was straining in his pants, the stretch of the underwear was evident underneath the pads of your fingers. His hands were grabbing lightly at the sides of your body, still only on top of the protection of your clothes. But you could feel the heat emanating from his palms through it, lighting your body on fire. 
You applied pressure on his bulge and his fingers clamped down on you. The force that he was putting on your hips may or may not leave bruises along your skin. 
“Tsukishima,” his name came out as breathless gasp on your lips. He responded by slightly rubbing his chest into your back and lowering his mouth to your ear. 
Was this a dream? Was he holding the girl of whom he wanted to hold for the past six years in his arms right now? And more importantly, was her hand really caressing his cock right now? He was nervous, his brain was swimming with alcohol and unknown boldness. As well as the lust that was pooling around the two of them. The other 4 had already passed out and now, he looked at your side profile from your neck, it was just him and the gorgeous woman sitting with him. He smiled a little to himself before burying his face deep into the crook of your neck. 
The faint but rapid pulse he could feel against his nose let him know you were just as nervous he was. You moved your neck to give him more access to the skin there and he tentatively placed a kiss there. He was happy and he moved his hands from your hips to wrap around your torso. You were completely squished into his body, with little breaths escaping your mouth. 
He was fondling the sides of your body and kissing your neck with fever now. However, he looked back up at the room, they still had an audience. Even if they were passed out. 
You moved your body so now you laid across his lap and he lifted you bridal style in his arms. The rustling of clothes and clinking of cans sounded through the room as he lazily moved you to another part of your home. Your bedroom. 
The entire way there, he could feel your lips nipping at the skin on his neck, a sensitive area for him. It only made more blood rush to his dick as he carried you. When you guys made it to you bedroom he laid on the edge of the bed, leaving your legs to dangle. He got on his knees and adjusted his glasses. He looked up at you from between your legs, you were propped up on your elbows watching his every move. What he was going to do to you and just how was he going to do it. 
“Y/N,” he started to tug down on the loose pants you were wearing. 
“Yes?” you kicked off the pants and let him begin to take your panties off too. 
“Remember when you asked what I eat?” he had your panties off now and in front of him through the dim light, he could see the outline of your heat. He licked his lips, he was going to enjoy this. 
“Uhuh, I do,” you wiggled a little bit as he lift your legs above his shoulder, his face right in front of your most private area. Embarrassment was flushing through your body but lust was proving to conquer that feeling. 
“Well,” he leaned his face closer to you, “I’m about to show you,” and gave you a full blown lick. Down and then up, letting his tongue lay flat against you. You tasted absolutely divine, just one taste and he was already feeling euphoric. He couldn’t stop the groan or the eager pull at your body to push his face further into you. The room was filled with the sound of Tsukishima slurping up the slick you produced. 
He moaned into you, sending vibrations that shook you to your very core. He could tell you loved it just from the way your body reacted to it and shaking undeniably from the pleasure he was giving you. 
Tsukishima never really like going down on someone. But for you? One hand looped around your leg just so he could fondle you. He would make an easy decision to make an exception. You tasted great on his tongue. Normally when the girls pulled his hair taught in his fingers, he would get mildly annoyed and force their hands off him. 
But you messaged his head and were gentle but firm when pulling on his hair. 
He hated it when other girls would squeeze his head between their thighs, being over the top and dramatic whenever they came. But you? Your thighs barely tickled his head with their presence, they were plump cushions that didn’t dare to burst his head. 
He hated it when they made a mess on his face because they never satisfied him. He didn’t bother to try and drink up all the slick their vaginas’ provided. But you? He believed he could survive on this alone for days. You tasted salty, but just barely. The taste was addicting, he brought you closer to his face by gripping onto the sides of your hips. 
Your skin was soft under his hands and he massaged it as he continued to eat you out. Just barely could he see your hands gripping the sheets with extreme vigor as if trying to anchor yourself to the real world. Your breaths and shallow moaning was echoing around in his ears. 
You weren’t the only one experiencing a good amount of pleasure from this as Tsukishima was feeling as excited as you were. How could he not? 
When the time of you coming came, a silent shriek left your mouth as it tried to vocalize your orgasm. Tsukishima was all there for it, letting you soak his chin and make him choke a little as he drank every bit of your orgasm up. It was delicious, the desert of a full course meal. He rode your orgasm out on his tongue feeling the muscles just quiver around his tongue as he tentatively kitten licked you. 
He pulled away when he was certain that you were done and looked at your artistic form. 
Your arms were spread out, mimicking the wings of a bird. Maybe even a tiny crow and he smiled thinking about you guys’ times at Karasuno. Your hair was splayed and frizzed out on the crumpled sheets underneath on your panting body. 
You, with great effort, raised a hand to touch the hem of his pants but he pushed it away. Instead he opted to leave one more kiss on your open vagina before pulling your pants back up. He then went onto your body, crushing you a little with his weight before he pulled your body into his chest. 
He much more opted to do this instead. 
____
You woke up the next morning to the sound of a camera shuttering and a flash going off. 
“The hell?” you groaned and tried to sit up but there was a heavy weight on your upper body holding you down. It was Tsukishima’s arms and your face flamed very quickly, remembering the not-so-hazy moments of last night. You brought your hands to cuddle his arm further into you. 
And there it was again, the sound of camera shuttering. You looked over his arm to see Yamaguchi standing there with Hinata hiding behind his back. He was taking pictures of the two of you together on your phone and Tsukishima’s. 
Oh god.
You sent a glare and made a shooing motion with your hand as to not wake the sleeping beast that was currently nuzzling the crook of your neck. 
(Later when you got your phone back, you put the picture as the background of your phone lock screen).
__
i tried soooo hard to finally do this but i was having such a block sooooo
i have no regrets writing this causeeeeee i like it and thats what matters but it would be nice if you gusy liked it too...
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cheeriecherry · 4 years
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Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [3/9]
EraserMic x Reader
Part 2/9 (Planning has added another part)
Warnings: panic attacks, reader being a little awkward
A week passes in the blink of an eye. You’ve tried to keep busy while your friends are away at work, but you can only clean the house so many times before it becomes monotonous. 
You’ve also checked out a few apartments that are renting, but every single one you’ve visited so far has left you disappointed: too small, in the wrong neighborhood, no yard, wrong vibe. A little piece of you knows you’re making excuses to stay with Shouta and Hizashi longer, but you can’t help that you want your new place to fit your needs perfectly.
In the same breath, you’ve also done what you promised you would, and looked into a few of the resources Shouta provided you with, for counseling and therapy services. You thought it would be easy enough, check out the websites, set up an appointment, etcetera etcetera, but the moment you open one of the tabs your throat closes up.
You’ve been trying for three days to look through everything, trying to push through your discomfort and underlying panic, but so far the only thing it’s done is make you tired and cranky and stressed.
You close the laptop for the fourth day in a row, having spent the last half hour reading through yet another counseling site. Maybe it’s your anxiety, maybe it’s your fear of admitting you’re struggling, maybe it’s because you know you’ll have to talk about things you really don’t want to talk about...but none of these places feel like the right fit. Just like the apartments.
You glance at the clock on the wall, sighing deeply when you find that it’s barely past noon. 
Maybe you should get out, go for a walk or something? You don’t have very many clothes, so maybe you could go to the mall. Shop around a bit, get something to eat. Treat yourself.
It’s a good idea, you decide, and you need the fresh air.
----
When you walk into the mall, you instantly wish you’d stayed home.
It’s busy, and uncomfortably so. Elderly folks meeting up, parents pushing strollers with small children, a couple of highschool kids ditching class.
Surely no one would pay you any mind if you just turned around and walked right back out?
No, you think, taking a deep breath, I can do this. It’s just people.
You try to walk normally, and look like you’re not wincing at every step you take further into the crowd. It’s just people.
...People I can’t protect.
The thought pops into your mind faster than you can catch it, and your gait stutters. You push it away and keep walking, but it’s as if the psychological floodgates have been opened.
A villain could attack right now, and I wouldn’t do anything.
Your chest tightens.
I’m a useless excuse for a hero.
Your hands start shaking.
I would just stand there and watch them die. Just like-
You squeeze your eyes shut, and beeline to the nearest bench, sitting down to try and take a few calming breaths. 
It starts to work, and you can feel your body relaxing slightly, until an elderly woman decides to take up the seat next to you. Your skin buzzes with electricity, hyper-aware of her presence beside you. When you glance over at her, you find that she’s smiling kindly at you.
“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, reaching out to rest a dainty hand on your knee. 
You resist the guttural urge to snap away from her. She’s just checking on you, you tell yourself, don’t be rude.
“I’m- yes. I’m okay,” you say with a shaky voice, “Thank you.” You can tell she doesn’t quite believe it, and you don’t blame her. You probably look a mess, a trembling, blanched, wide-eyed mess.
You track her movement as she reaches into the purse tucked under her arm, expecting something, anything, any kind of threat to appear, but she only pulls out a small red lollipop. She offers it to you with a wrinkled hand, gently pressing it into your palm.
“A distraction, perhaps?” she suggests, “Sweets always make me feel better.”
You thank her quietly and unwrap the treat, sticking it in your cheek. You try to focus on the overwhelming flavour, the sickly sweet synthetic cherry, the way it burns against your tongue.
Another woman calls out to the lady beside you, who squeezes your knee softly. “I hope you feel better soon, dear,” she says, standing. “Have a lovely afternoon.”
You smile and nod at her, and the moment she’s out of sight you spit the candy out and bolt towards the exit.
----
You finally stop running about a block away from the mall, heart beating erratically and chest so tight you can barely breathe. You find a nearby empty bench and fall onto it, and let your head hang low. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, and your vision is blurry, and it doesn’t help the threat of oncoming nausea.
Thankfully now that you’re out in the open, you begin to calm down again. You wipe at your eyes to rid yourself of your tears, and try to focus on the feeling of the bench pressing into your legs. Warm from the sun against your skin, sturdy and unwavering metal slats holding you steady, slight tremor when someone sits down next to you…
Not again, you think, shrinking away from the person.
“Rough day?” they ask. You eye them cautiously, taking note of every detail.
You can’t tell if they’re a boy or a girl, not that it really matters to you. They’re young, maybe sixteen, clad in dark baggy clothes. Their posture is casual, comfortable, hands shoved in pockets, and they don’t look old enough to have graduated school. You wonder if they’re skipping class, but you don’t really care.
“Yeah,” you mumble, “Something like that.”
The kid turns towards you, slinging an arm over the back of the bench.
“That’s too bad,” they say, genuinity unsettling you, “Nice lady like you shouldn’t be lookin’ so sad.”
Your stomach roils with anxiety, and you’re sure your blood pressure has skyrocketed again. “I’m sorry,” you say quickly, standing, “I’m not really in the mood to talk. I’m...I’m gonna go-”
A slender hand shoots out and grabs your wrist, holding you in place.
“Wait, please! I’ve been looking for you for days-”
Pain shoots up your arm, and you glare down at the teen, fury overtaking your mind. “Let go of me before I rip your fucking arm off.”
“Please, let me explain-”
You rip your arm out of their grip, and take a few weak steps backwards. “If you’ve been looking for me, then you know who I am, and you know what I’ve done. Don’t think I’ll hesitate to break you into pieces if you come near me again.”
The kid stares at you with wide honey-brown eyes, an inkling of fear flashing behind them.
Good.
You waste no time turning around to run back home, leaving your assailant behind.
----
Ten o’clock finds Shouta and Hizashi walking through the front door, the latter talking animatedly about something you couldn’t quite hear. 
You stir the ladle around the pot a few times, judging the thickness of the stew you’re preparing, while you listen to them chatter back and forth. A sad smile graces your features, and you wonder if this is the way they usually come home; tired, but always happy to have each other.
“Something smells really good in here!”
You crane your head to the doorway right as Hizashi traipses in. He zeroes in on you in an instant, coming over to wrap you in a tight hug. It surprises you, even though it shouldn’t. In years past, he was always the most open with physical affection, often greeting you and Shouta with touches and hugs and kisses on the cheek.
“You guys are right on time,” you say, reaching across the stove to flip the burner off, “Dinner’s ready.”
Hizashi makes haste in preparing a bowl for himself, dashing out to the dining room to find a seat. You shake your head and fix some stew for yourself and Shouta, following in suit shortly after. The two of them are already set up around the table, making smalltalk with each other while they wait for you.
Shouta thanks you when you set his bowl down in front of him, but waits until you sit to start eating.
“So how were your days?” you ask, stirring your meal absently, “Did anything interesting happen?”
Hizashi shrugs, and doesn’t even bother to swallow before answering. “Not really. Between teaching and hosting a radio show, it actually gets pretty repetitive.”
You have a hard time believing that. Before you’d left, his stories about his students and his shows were endless and hilarious, and he’d talk about them for hours on end if you let him.
“What about patrol?”
“Eh, same same. Stopped a couple small timers, you know, convenience store robbery, purse theft, that kind of thing. Nothing big.”
You nod. “I’d consider that a win. Smaller villains means smaller paperwork…” 
The three of you break into an uneasy silence, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You eat your meal slowly, and avoid looking at either of them. Something was on their minds, and you had a feeling you knew what it was, but if you didn’t look at either of them then maybe they wouldn’t ask you…
Finally, Shouta sighs. “This is idiotic.”
“Sho,” Hizashi hisses, but doesn’t get much else out.
“There was something we needed to talk to you about, but you seem like you’ve had some kind of day. It might be easier to talk about it later.”
You think back to your eventful afternoon filled with panic attacks, and mask the worry with a smile. “It wasn’t too bad,” you assure them, “Besides, you’ve got me curious, now. Spit it out!”
Shouta sets his spoon down. “I was wondering if you’d consider being a guest speaker for the first year hero classes at Yuuei. They need to learn about all the possibilities of hero work, including undercover missions.”
“And I figured that since you’re here now,” Hizashi interrupts, “you’d be a perfect candidate!” 
You’re surprised, to say the least, and it’s obvious. 
“Take some time to think about it. You’ve got a couple weeks, still, so you don’t need to decide right away.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You’re grateful for the buffering period, because as much as you’d love to say yes to them, you’re not sure if you could handle speaking in front of a bunch of teens. Especially if your afternoon was any indication of your coping abilities.
What would you even talk about? Would you have to prepare a presentation? A speech? Or would they simply ask you questions? And god, how would you answer said questions? How could you tell a bunch of young hopefuls that undercover missions are almost always riddled with violence and PTSD?
You take another bite of stew. “I’ll...consider it.”
----
The rest of the dinner is more comfortable, filled with idle conversation and a couple of old jokes. It’s nothing compared to how the three of you used to be, and a little piece of you wonders if you’ve done something to upset the balance the two of them had created together.
Of course I have, you think, I showed up after disappearing for years and now I’m taking up their couch.
Still, there seems to be something more, some kind of tension beyond the stresses of recent events. Maybe it just felt different because you were different, more closed off to the world, to people, but it’s not like you could help it.
You couldn’t bear to lose either of them, if they were to find out what really happened on your mission. The things you saw, the things you did.
You could foot a little bit of awkwardness if it meant you would get to keep them in your life.
The three of you bid goodnight after you eat, each of you tired after a long day. You know for a fact that you won’t be able to sleep yet, not without nightmares, but you dim the lights anyways to keep your friends from questioning you.
You get comfortable on the couch and pull Shouta’s laptop over, flipping the screen open to continue your search about counseling services. You’ve gone through every suggestion on his list, save for one.
And so far, as you scroll through their website, it seems to be okay. The staff members and doctors seem to be knowledgeable, and the numerous patient reviews praise them for their compassion, kindness, reasonable prices, and short wait list.
You scroll around a little more, picking out whatever contact information is available. Most of it is done through email, it seems, which you’re fine with.
You open a new email document and start typing, asking what kind of information you need to provide and how the process works, and what steps you need to take in order to get a consultation appointment.
You don’t expect an answer until tomorrow, so you’re pleasantly surprised when a reply pops into your inbox not five minutes later.
‘Hello, Miss Y/N,’ it reads, ‘Thank you for contacting us. I’m Nurse Yumi, a member of the practising night staff. It’s a big step to seek help when you’re struggling, so we appreciate you reaching out to us. If you’d like, we can set up a consultation appointment for tomorrow afternoon. I’ve attached the preliminary forms to fill out before your visit, if you could please have them completed before then. If this is agreeable for you, let me know and I'll give you the time and date.
Well wishes,
Nurse Practitioner Yumi.’
You quickly type up another email, thanking them for their quick notification as well as confirming your availability. 
You set a reminder in your phone before you lay down so you don’t forget about it, and shut down the laptop, placing it back on the coffee table. You’re not quite ready to sleep yet, but you know if you stay up any later then it’ll be harder to wake up on time.
Begrudgingly, you curl up on your side and try to think about nothing as you doze off.
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phantomphangphucker · 3 years
Text
Ectober Day 22: Lose - Keen Of The Green Chap.2: Hack Up A Ghost Or Two
Kwan’s always been the kinda guy too clean up others messes, you could say he was the teams mother hen, but this was kinda ridiculous. But at least he wasn’t cleaning up after his teammates for once.
Casper High was much more used to Danny and his general.. weird, now. To the point that people would give him random ghosts -usually plants, Whisps, or Blob ghosts- they found. Or if they were getting chased by or spotted a ghost people actually ran to him. The real surprise and improvement was that the teen wouldn’t run away from ghosts now, which everyone was in agreement he had been doing to try to ‘hunt’ the ghost in private, and would actually just eat what people brought him like it wasn’t as absolutely weird and messed up as it was.
Though seeing the switch flip in him between random Highschool senior loser to predator, if someone did manage to lead a ghost to the teen, was freaky and even rather scary. Some folks watched purely out of morbid curiosity others in some odd attempt to be supportive of the local monster. His friends were the only ones who seemed genuinely unphased. Which did make some wonder just how long this had gone on for, if the boy was born like this, or the really unpleasant thought that his parents messed him up.
He didn’t like that stuff being questioned though so no one did. They just treated him like they had before excluding the, probably odd and messed up to anyone outside of Amity, support of his oddness.
No matter how used to this they were though, Kwan was honestly not prepared to walk into Fenton throwing up chunks of a ghost into the school toilets.
Kwan blinks and opens and closes his mouth a few times before finding something to say after opening the -unlocked, what was Fenton thinking?- bathroom stall door. “Ate too much or something? And Fenton, for future reference, for the love of everything, lock the door”. Fenton predictably flips him off over his shoulder while hacking some more.
Kwan sighs, muttering, “why am I always the one to walk in on this stuff”, and walks over to the teen. Kneeling down and rubbing Fenton’s back like he does for his bros when they drink way too much. At least he made it to the bathroom. That was something. Todd literally never did. It was to the point he was banned from drinking heavily at anyone’s house other than his own.
Fenton grumbles, “you-”, hack, “-just have really bad luck”.
Kwan nods, agreeing that might be accurate, “well I’m not sure if this should be more or less embarrassing for you or me”.
Fenton makes a few gagging noises, “too sick to-”, hack, “-be embarrassed”. Which again, Kwan will admit is fair. Vomiting into a toilet, especially a public one, was always embarrassing but no one really thought about that in the moment. Especially if he couldn’t even be bothered to lock the bloody door.
After a bit Fenton sits back on his heels, arms on his knees, and looks to Kwan, “ugh, probably gonna get sick a bit more before it’s outta my system”. Kwan gives him a probably rather pained cringy smile at that, though noting how the whites of the smaller teens' eyes were pale green; which he doesn’t think has been something anyone has seen before. Maybe Fenton was actually sick? “Getting what out of your system?”.
Fenton rubs the back of his hand over his mouth, scowling down at the green smeared there, before actually answering, “ah. Well”, readjusting and shaking his head while mumbling something about him probably deserving some answers for this shit. Which while Kwan doesn’t actually think is the case, he still would like to know. Finding out things about Fenton has become kinda a fun game. So he keeps his mouth shut and lets Fenton continue, “so I had -let’s call it ‘breakfast’- things didn’t smell right but I’ve barely had any sleep and do I really care? No. I’ve drunk rotten milk before. But now I’m pretty well positive someone went and ecto-poisoned the NeverWoods or something”.
Kwan blinks, well that was a dick move. Sure the NeverWoods produced a lot of ghost plants and the Whisps and shit but that was cool and the things were cute. He even had one of the little blob guys as a pet, Fenton had nonchalantly given him food for the little guy. Which was weird ‘cause he had been nervous the odd teen would try to eat his pet or something when he found out. Like how some people ate rabbits and horses. Shaking his head a little, “so... so this is more, uh, food poisoning than anything else?”. Fenton shrugs but holds up a finger and leans back over the toilet; promptly throwing up again. Fenton grumbling after hacking a bit, “I’ll be fine”.
Kwan believes that, when is Fenton ever not okay? “Eh, this is as good an excuse as any to skip health”. Fenton chuckles a little, “your fault for putting it off ‘till senior year”. Kwan just shrugs and gives an agreeing, “yeah”, but hey, at least it was easy.
Kwan speaks up again as Fenton’s just been leaning over the toilet hacking and make other sounds the jock was more used to hearing late at night than mid-morning, “I'm guessing that whatever was done to the woods ain’t good for all the ecto there?”.
Fenton hacks a bit more, “no man, obviously”, spits into the toilet bowl and turns to look at him, “if I can’t handle it in my system then they certainly can’t”. Kwan frowns, “well damn”, speaking back up at Fenton rolling his eyes and turning back to the toilet, “so... what we gonna do about it? I take it goth girlfriend isn’t going to take that lying down, especially with you hacking into a gross ass toilet over it”, making a point to chuckle, “though hunter girlfriend might approve of it”. Pretty well everyone called those three friends of his his girlfriends and boyfriend, largely because it was funny. Fenton predictably moves his arm back to shove him over. Him banging the stall door open as a result and just letting himself land on the ground -kid was strong alright?- just as Dash and Dale come in.
“There you are man! We’ve been looking- hey is that Fenton?”. Said teen just groans, it sounds more out of annoyance than sickness though, even if he does throw up again.
Dale chuckles, “well looks like someone’s losing their lunch, or breakfast really. Or did he just spend the whole night drinking”, and smirks.
Kwan gets up and closes the stall door to give the kid some privacy. “More like got second-hand poisoning. Someone went and poisoned the NeverWoods or something like that”. Both other jocks scowl immediately. Dash snapping, “oh that is so not cool”. Dale nodding in agreement, “we should pummel whoever”.
That gets a chuckle from inside the stall, “I’d place my bets on the G.I.W., my folks ain’t the type”, followed by more hacking and spitting sounds, “and Val knows better”. They all know that what he means by that is that she wouldn’t go poisoning a place she knows is something of a ‘hunting ground’ for her friend. That girl hated ghosts a lot but not enough to go getting a living person -humanity questionable or not- sick. And his parents really were the more ‘shoot their heads off’ type. Kwan hums, “see now this sounds like a good excuse to go ransack their compound”. Dash and Dale immediately grin meanly, “oh Hell yeah. we’ve been waiting for an excuse to do that”, which as true. The whole town hated those men. For a lot of reasons. Everything from blowing up buildings to murder attempts to trying to tax them for the ghost problem; plus, the town all agreed they were way too violent with ghosts. Even Valerie/Red did.
Fenton grumbles, “this town is insane”.
Dash rolls his eyes, “says the guy who eats ghosts”.
“The fact that none of y’all even-”, hack, “-treat me weird over that now is part of the insanity”.
All three boys make waving off motions at the door, “eh, we love and support our local monster”.
“Then why do you still shit-kick me?”.
Dash smirks, “got an image and norm to maintain. Highschool hierarchy to uphold, Fenton”. They all hear the teen grumble back, “you know normally, sheep don’t go around poking wolves”. They decidedly ignore the low-key sorta implied threat of him eating them; everyone knew by now that the kid wouldn’t actually do that. Alpha predator or not. Even if he probably could.
They can hear him flush and get up, opening the stall door seconds later. His face looked practically flushed a kinda sickly green, he glares at them anyway, “if you’re really gonna do that then you have my full support and involvement”. That makes the three jocks grin and cheer. And all it takes to get Fenton’s three friends in on it was dragging Fenton over to them and blurting out that the G.I.W. poisoned him. Which they oddly seemed less surprised and more just fed up about.
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hatsukeii · 4 years
Note
Yoyo can I request a matchup lol I'm 155cm in height, yes very sm0l Introverted at first and doesn't make the 1st move, but when u get to know me dammnnn I'm loud as hell But in general is very chill Good in math I guess(I'm like studying college math and I'm literally in highschool lol) Drawing is my main hobby but I also play badminton and volleyball(as a libero, former all arounder) Very sickly, takes luke 69 meds a day and everyweek in the hospital lol but I'm fine 👌👌 Thats it I think -♤
Good this is legit perfect lmao
Dude can I have your math genes I’m literally the Asian disappointment I haven’t once gotten an A in math this year help-
Uh oh I’m repeating a matchup but like I have to this is just way too perfect
Your matchup is:
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✨Nishinoya “ROLLINGU SUNDAAA” Yuu✨
Ho lee shit yES. 
Just saying, Nishinoya is very happy that you’re shorter than him. Like do you know how hard it is to find a girl that’s shorter than his pipsqueak ass? He’s very loud, very boisterous, very bold, and will have absolutely no problem with hitting on you and asking you out. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about even if you’re more introverted and don’t like making the first move. He’ll literally do all the socialising for you at first with his dashing™ smile and his outgoing personality. Once you guys get closer, he’ll totally crackhead around with you. Like 3am instant ramen room concert vine cosplay crackhead hours.
Sis he will practise volleyball with you considering your history as a libero. He loves that he can discuss new techniques with you and you’d understand what he means. It’s also kind of refreshing for you to go back to your old skills too sometimes. Apart from that, he also likes to play badminton, which means if he’s feeling restless, he will get you up and on your ass and start badminton matches with you as date ideas. Get ready to feel your legs hurt after 3 hours of playing badminton with him in a gym.
Yeah you need to help him study. One of his worst subjects is maths and he needs so much help with it it’s insane. Good thing is, that’s exactly your best subject. It still blows his mind how you can explain concepts that he’s been failing to understand for months in a matter of minutes. Since you guys started going on study dates, his grades have improved significantly. Even the third years from the volleyball team were shocked to find out that you were helping him with school and it was actually working really well.
And he actually constantly reminds you to TAKE YOUR DAMN MEDS AND StAY TF HYDRATED.
Catchphrases:
“Yoooo let’s play volleyball, I have this new like kick foot save thing, it’s so epic oh god-”
“If I don’t ace this test it’s partially on you sweetie.”
“Ah yes, this is my girlfriend, don’t mess with her unless you have a death wish my dude.”
“Don’t forget I’m still taller than you.”
Other possible matches:
Tanaka “SHITTY BOYYYY” Ryunosuke 
Bokuto “AGHAASHEIIIII” Kotaro
Lev “Training? Never heard of her.” Haiba
I hope you liked your match<33
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yaneyanedaze · 5 years
Text
For you,Dr.Kujo.
-A Normal Teacher Au, where some characters are teachers and some are students, the reader is a beloved teacher until she becomes ill, and flowers start to appear randomly around her.-
Hope you guys love this! This now makes three stories that I have posted! And I hope this one will be just a great as the others for you!
Warnings: a little bit of Angst, sick!reader-Chan, angst with a happy ending. Maybe ooc jotaro because I suck at Jotaro writings
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“Ms. (Y/n) are you alright?..”
My eyes went wide as flowers appeared on the floor near my desk. I felt an intense feeling of sickness coming on, but didn’t know what it was. I was in the middle of a meeting with two of my students, Hirose Koichi and Higashikata Josuke. They were here to help raise their grades and discuss the project i had recently given them. They looked at me with worry as they tried to help me sit up.
Dark blue and Sky blue rose petals lay on the floor. It hurt when I tried to breath, i glanced up at Josuke and Koichi with a pained smile, “I-I’ll be fine guys..it’s probably just a cold I’m coming down with.” I said brushing it off. I stood completely up, reaching to get a broom to sweep this up. I had to clean this up before heading anywhere else, I waved goodbye to Koichi and Josuke as they walked out my class, I had to figure out what this was.
And I had to figure it out fast.
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My name is (Y/n) (L/n), I am an Art Teacher at S.W Highschool, and usually I do not get sickly that easy, but today it hit me hard. I had trouble getting from my classroom to the teachers lounge, where I scared two of my fellow colleagues. Jean Pierre Polnareff, The French teacher and Frankie Courtson, a fellow music teacher, both looked at me with equally worried looks as I stumbled in. “Woah, (Y/n)! Are you alright! You look terrible!-Ow!” “Shush. Are you alright Ms.(L/n)?” Frankie was the one to lead me to the chair to sit down, as she did, I felt the need to throw up again.
I grabbed the trash can and Polnareff held my (h/c)!hair up, more rose petals came out, they now were covered in small drops of blood. I heard the door open and I assumed another teacher came in. After about 5 minutes the footsteps came over to my area. “Yare, Yare..What did you get yourself into.?” I felt a rush of embarrassment go through me. “It was nothing Jotaro, She just came in here sick, and then speaking with her students they said she was sick during class.” Frankie explained for me. I slowly raised up and used a paper towel Polnareff handed me to wipe my mouth off. I tried standing up, but was too weak to even balance myself. I fell back into the arms of Jotaro, who just shook his head. “Find another Teacher to sub for her. I’m taking her home.” He said blankly before picking me up bridal style.
(3rd POV)
Jotaro looked over at (y/n) as she laid asleep in her bed. He had brought her to her home and using the spare key she had, got in and placed her in bed. She had begun coughing in her sleep and he saw something that confused him.
Flowers.
They were a pretty sky blue color, similar to the ocean,but they were covered in her blood. They looked pretty, but he knew they were causing her immense pain. On the car ride here, she complained of her illness getting worse, and the pain became unbearable, and she soon passed out. Jotaro knew he broke a couple of laws trying to speed his way to her home, to give her medicine to make her feel better. But he feels like something more is wrong.
He glanced around her room looking for something. He found something she was working on, a paper on her desk, with notes sprawled all around it. He picked it up and sat back in the chair, reading it, and what he read sent chills down his spine:
“The Hanahaki Disease is an Illness Born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. If the patient continues to let the disease stay, it will spread throughout their lungs, and eventually they choke and die from the petals in their body. This can be cured if the one they love returns their feelings. But will worsen if they reject it.”
You were suffering from this disease.
You were going to die if who ever you loved didn’t love you back.
Jotaro glanced over to see that (y/n) was now awake and slowly beginning to sit up. “Ugh..my head..Thank you Jotaro..for bringing me hom-“ “Why didn’t you tell me..?” He interrupted with a question, his hand pulling down his hat to hide his features. He sounded hurt. (Y/n) tilted her head in confusion. Before seeing the paper in his hands, the petals on her bed and floor.
(Y/n) turned her head as a forced smile came on her face “I don’t know what you’re talking about-“ “Don’t lie to me! You’re dying and I want to help you get better!!” He yelled. Now gripping her shoulders and looking her dead in the eyes, his eyes were puffing, blood shot red. He was crying. The stoic man known as Jotaro Kujo was crying. His tears ran down his face though as he pulled her closer to his chest, nearly causing her to fall out of bed. “Just let me help..I can’t..I can’t loose you.” He muttered softly.
(First Pov)
My chest felt like it lightened from that, He cared about me. He actually cared, and not only that, he was crying for me. I thought I was dreaming until I heard him say something else.
“(Y/n)..I love you..”
I felt tears starting to well up in my eyes and I gripped onto Jotaro’s Jacket. I just let it all out, I didn’t care anymore, I really didn’t. “I’m so sorry Jojo!” I started, using my nickname for him. “I was just gonna let it play out, I couldn’t go through with the surgery. I didn’t think it’ll get this bad..” I confessed, only earning a tighter grip on my body. He let out a grunt before placing his face in the crook of my neck and beginning to speak.
“It’s..it’s fine. Just tell me..That was scary. Josuke came and told me you weren’t doing good, I rushed from my class to come check on you. My heart dropped when I didn’t see you in your classroom, so I checked the teachers lounge next. Seeing you in that position nearly killed me. I didn’t know..I didn’t know that..” he trailed off before lifting his head to look me in my eyes again. “That I caused this..” I quickled shook my head as I allowed my self to fully be seated in his lap. “It’s not your fault..I should’ve told you..” I say laying my head on his chest. I could hear his heart beating fast, before feeling another presence around me. I only assumed it was Jotaro’s Stand Star Platinum.
And if on que, the large hands of Star picked me up and held me in his arms. He also had a saddened look on his features, I placed a hand on his face and gave a smile. “I-I’m alright Star! See look! I was just a little sick that’s all” That didn’t seem to affect the large stand as he still held onto me with a protective ‘Ora!’ Jotaro stood up from the chair he was in with a “Yare Yare..” and walked over to us. He placed a small kiss on my forehead before ordering Star to put me down. The stand seemed to be reluctant but eventually placed me on my feet, just to have Jotaro pull me into another hug, lift my chin and place a soft kiss onto my lips. He ran a hand down my back before smirking.
“Starting tomorrow you’re now officially Mrs.Kujo.”
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When I arrived back to school the next Monday. I began writing in cursive on the board, my class seemed glad that I was back. But I heard shocked gasps when I finished writing.
Mrs.(Y/n)Kujo.
I smiled proudly as I began passing out the sketch books to my students. “Starting today guys, you can call me Mrs.(Y/n) or-“ “Mrs.Kujo.” I whipped my head to the door, a big grin on my face. Jotaro stood in the doorway, papers in his hands as well as a container. “You forgot your lunch. So I brought it.” He said handing it to me before turning to leave with a smirk as he glanced at the whiteboard. When he left, I was bombarded with questions from my students. Ranging from “where were you yesterday?” To “when are you two gonna have kids?”.
I giggled and continued on with class, answering some questions, other I told them to ask Mr. Kujo. I was happy.
I was happy that I was no longer sickly, and that I had the fiancé of my dreams.
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Hope you guys enjoyed this little story!
It was something I decided to do instead of schoolwork lol
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p-artsypants · 4 years
Text
Longest Night (24) Shocking
And Marinette had thought Highschool had been hard. Right now, in this moment, she'd give anything to go back to those petty arguments and gossip fueled drama. But she couldn't. Instead, she and Adrien were trapped here, being punished, humiliated, tortured, for being heroes, all broadcasted for the world to see. At least she and her kitty were in this together. For now. Whump!Fic
Ao3 | FF.net
Just as a pleasant reminder: this story will have a happy ending, one that is better than ‘they both died and were free from their suffering’. I wouldn’t do that to you guys.
This chapter, we go back to Marinette and Adrien. There is gross misuse of a needle and thread (Trigger warning), and some shocking revelations (pun intended).
A small room. Concrete walls, ceiling and floor. A single metal door, with a cold metal table and chair. Illuminated with single flickering lightbulb, casting a sickly yellow light around the surfaces. This kind of room most people would avoid. It offered no comfort, no safety. It held secrets, and no mercy.
To Marinette, it felt like home.
Silence had been a constant companion this last month. Where as Marinette had gotten used to Tikki’s constant presence before, now she was startled by noise. Any noise. She could hear from this dank, secluded room, the sound of water running. Most likely someone else getting a shower.
And the light. There was only an old bulb to illuminate the room, but it was still much too bright for her eyes. So she rested her head in her arms on the table top. The icy water from her power washing still clung to her body, the hospital gown hanging on her turning damp. There was no warmth from the table or chair. Only cold, hard, unforgiving silence.
All there was to do was wait. All there ever was now.
Wait for death.
Something heinous happened in the dark. Every minute of every day, she stewed in fear, in anger, in injustice. The cold bony hand of wrath squeezed her heart, crushing compassion, mercy, and care from her very soul.
No one was coming.
Then she could let them all go. If they were watching, then they could all suffer with guilt.
Sure, she was Ladybug, but she was also a kid. Didn’t that mean anything to anyone? Or were they all expecting her to save herself?
But they had abandoned her. With whatever had happened back at school. The facts were blurry at this point, but she remembered everyone shunning her.
So why would her being Ladybug change anything?
But Adrien…
Her heart softened. He didn’t deserve whatever fate had befallen him. He had fought so hard, so valiantly, there was no blame on him.
He was the only person she could forgive.
But he was gone. And now she alone.
Alone in the silence.
So now the question remained: Dare she save herself?
What kind of life awaited her outside, anyway? What kinds of things were they saying about her?
Ladybug, the failure. The little girl that fooled the whole city. The disgusting pig.
There’d be hell to pay. She’d show Salo what revenge really looked like.
They thought Ladybug was red? She’d give them red.
Marinette sat up slightly, her bangs shielding the light from her eyes. She looked down at her hands.
Bony, dry, callus, and bruised. The hands of a corpse. That’s what she felt like at least. This was some sort of limbo she lived in. Half aware, plotting and calculating her revenge…the other half…twisted. The hallucinations in the cell were so vivid, so real. It was hard to tell the difference between them and what was real.
I’ve gone insane. She insisted in her mind. Normal people didn’t think like this. Normal people didn’t daydream about strangling people with their intestines.
This room was too big. She wanted back in the closet.  
The door opened again, Salo and one of her henchmen escorting another prisoner onto the bleak room. They had them by the arm, and all but shoved them into the room before slamming the door shut behind them.
Then suddenly, Marinette wasn’t alone in the silence anymore.
A young man, tall, pale. He was just a skeleton with skin stretched over him. He was incredibly bruised, and his legs were stained with filth. His blonde hair was drenched and also looked stringy and dull.
Did she look like that too? She wondered.
The young man toddled into the room, using the wall for balance.
Then he looked up, and met her eyes.
An impossible green. A green that haunted her for days. The green that accompanied the last echoes of his voice.
My Lady! My Lady!
It was Adrien.
And she hadn’t recognized him.
Marinette bolted from her chair and staggered over to him.
“Kitty?” She whispered, ever so gently.
Tears gathered in his eyes as he reached his one working arm out to caress her face. “My lady?” His whisper was even softer, his voice was gone, and he only spoke with the air in his lungs.  
“What have they done to you?” One hand held his cheek, as the other rested on his chest. She could feel his ribs, and the dent in his sternum she had caused with her crowbar.
He didn’t answer, his lips pulling into a thin line.
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Adrien leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. Then he rested his forehead against hers. There was a purr deep down in his chest, a remnant of being the Black Cat for so long. He still only spoke with a breath. “For better or for worse, in sickness and in health. I may have been forced to say that, but I take my vows seriously.”
“Kitty…” She cried, resting her hand on the back of his neck. “I love you so much. I thought…I thought they had killed you by now.”
“They gave it a good shot.” He nuzzled against her. “But as long as I know you’re still with me, I’ll keep fighting.”
Her fingers curled into his skin, her voice dripping with ferocity. “I will never leave you.”
The door opened again, much too soon for both of them, and they clung tighter together.
“Together again for five minutes and you just can’t keep your hands off of each other. Young love…what a joke.”  Salo’s voice pierced through their bubble.
Adrien didn’t look up, didn’t give her any attention. His lady was back in his arms, and that’s all that mattered.
“So selfish.” She scoffed. “You two aren’t even interested in the guest I’ve brought?”
Marinette shook her head. She didn’t want to see anyone from outside. They all abandoned her, abandoned them, why should she care?
But Salo had never given them a choice, and so they were dragged back into that big room where evil persisted.
The lights were blinding, and they both had to hide their faces in their arms.
Then they were being chained up, and there was nothing to do but clench their eyes shut and wait until they adjusted.
“What’re the stats, Harken?” Salo asked a corner of the room.
“Over 2 million online. We have some from Japan and Australia tuned in this time too.”
“My my, this is becoming a very big deal.”
Marinette, squinting heavily, peered up and looked around. The room was still pretty bare, save for a wooden chair that sat between her and Adrien.
“You two missed out on so much while you were sleeping. You remember my Eddy, right?”
Neither of them answered, but it was a given. The arrest of Edward Savauge is what had gotten them here in the first place.
“Well, looks like he’s been released on lack of evidence. No witnesses. Sure is interesting, don’t you think?”
Marinette rolled her eyes. It really wasn’t the surprising. It just sucked that their effort of bagging him had gone to waste. “So?” Marinette asked. “There’s no reason to keep us anymore.”
“On the contrary, Miss Bug. Now there’s no possible way I can let you leave. Not even if you pinky promise that you won’t say a word.”
“I figured as much.” She drawled.
“Now, don’t you want to know what’s being said about you out there?”
“Not particularly.”
“Come on, aren’t you just the tiniest bit curious?”
“If you’re trying to egg me on, I’m assuming it can’t be good.”
Salo laughed. “Boy, you are so full of spite! I love it!” She called over her shoulder. “Pasolini, I think you can bring our guest in.”
Marinette looked over to Adrien, who’s eyes were downcast. Seemed he was just as unenthused about their guest as she was.
A young woman was ushered in. She had a bag over her head.
But Marinette recognized the orange sweater immediately.
The girl was shoved into the chair before Salo ripped the bag off of her head.
Adrien and Marinette shared looks of disgust.
Salo grinned. “Glad you could join us, Miss Rossi. I’m Salo, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Lila, for all the acting that she had performed, was downright terrified. “Please, let me go! I didn’t do anything! Please!”
Salo looked to her prisoners, finding them stone faced. “Why Marinette, aren’t you happy to see your best friend? And Adrien, I know you must feel guilty for cheating on her with Marinette, but you must be happy to see your girlfriend, right?”
Adrien scowled at them both, not saying anything with his mouth, but volumes with his eyes.
“Hmm, there seems to be some misunderstandings here. Let’s see if we can find that interview.”
The tv behind Salo lit up, Lila’s face on it with a news ticker underneath. She was teary-eyed and delicately dabbed her cheek with a napkin. “It sickens me. Adrien isn’t actually Chat Noir, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn’t Ladybug. You see, Adrien and I…well, I see no point in keeping it a secret anymore, we were dating. Under the radar, of course, he’s not allowed to date. And then he told me that he came up with this idea of a performance piece and asked if I wanted to play the role of Ladybug. I said no, absolutely not, and so he broke up with me. I think the whole wedding bit was really just a ploy to make me jealous and have me crawl back to him. But now I know that he’s just sick and wants attention. Marinette has been that way since I met her. She’s always tried to get attention and lied to do so. I think we should all stop giving it to them and turn off the stream.”
Lila turned pale and shrank in her seat at the absolute rage on Marinette’s face, as she turned her gaze to stare at Lila.
Salo shrugged. “Well Marinette, looks like we’ve been found out. Now everyone knows about our performance piece. And Adrien…your relationship isn’t so secret anymore, I’m afraid.”
Adrien trembled in his anger, before an inhuman sound ripped from his throat. The sound of a caged animal breaking.
Salo just laughed at him. “Mm, interesting. I wonder…who’s lying?” Sang Salo. “Ladybug always wants justice, right?” She leaned on Lila’s shoulder, a spool of thread with a needle in her hand. “Then will you snitch? Knowing that snitches get stitches?”
Lila sobbed. “Marinette, I’m sorry! You know me—Always good for a j-joke!”
“Ah ah ah, I wasn’t talking to you Miss Rossi.”
Marinette saw the needle and thread for what it was. Another torture device. Maybe the old Marinette would have taken the easy way out. ‘Taken the high road’ so to speak, and let things unfold by themselves. She would give Lila this lie, setting her free, and saving herself from unnecessary pain.
But this Marinette was ready to hit where it hurt, no matter the sacrifice. And Salo was giving her the platform to do so.
“A joke.” Marinette repeated. “I’m a joke to you.”
“No! That’s not—! What I mean is—“
“My suffering has always been a joke to you.” Marinette interrupted. “When you got me expelled for something I didn’t do. When you tricked everyone into thinking I was some sort of creep. When you endangered me as Ladybug by taking Chat Noir out of the fight with a lie.”
“But—no! I was—I was just trying to make friends and get Adrien to like me! None of that stuff was on purpose!”
Marinette scoffed, and turned her head away. Even here, after all this, Lila was still lying. Arguing with her was not worth it.
Salo was the one to poke the bear. “So you hate her, Marinette? Having her here angers you?”
Marinette considered this. Then answered coldly. “No. She is annoying. Irritating. If you had asked me when I first came here how I felt, I would have said yes, I hated her. But now, after all I’ve felt, all I’ve learned…what I feel for her is not nearly what I feel for you, Salo.”
“Oh!” Salo rested a hand on her chest. “Aww, Marinette, I feel the same for you! Would you…be my enemy?”
Marinette glared at her. “I hope you choke.”
Salo laughed. “She’s so sassy! I love this new Ladybug! What about you, kitty cat? How do you feel about all of this?”
They looked to Adrien, who was staring at the floor. He looked like he wasn’t paying attention.
Salo snapped in front of his face. “Hey, I asked you a question, Pussy Cat.”
He looked up at Salo, then at Lila, and then back down to the floor.
Salo whistled lowly, “man, isolation was not good for you.”
Adrien didn’t respond to that, and kept his gaze on the floor.
To the outside, he looked resigned and obedient, but in his head, dark thoughts of revenge circled. Violent, unnatural, evil thoughts.
“Well,” said Salo, patting Lila’s head. “If having her here isn’t that big of a deal, I might as well get rid of her.” Her hand went to her hip.
Lila started crying. “Marinette! Please help me! Tell her to let me go! Please! I beg you!”
Marinette let out a dark laugh. “You think I can do anything? You think if I had any power, I wouldn’t have saved myself by now?”
Salo withdrew the gun, pointing it between Lila’s eyes.
“Please Marinette!”
Salo smiled. “My goodness! Ladybug, savior of Paris, would allow a civilian to get hurt?”
“Lila isn’t a civilian.” Marinette corrected, her voice deep. “She’s a parasite. A liar and a manipulator. She hurts everyone around her, and only causes trouble. Her disappearance would only be a good thing.”
The barrel rested between Lila’s eyebrows. “So I can dispose of her? You don’t mind?”
Marinette shrugged, her face blank. “Blow her brains out.”
Lila sobbed. “I lied!” She screamed. “I lied about everything! This is real! There’s no performance going on! I never dated Adrien and Marinette never lied! Marinette never took any pictures of Adrien! She never stole anything! She didn’t cheat on her test! She didn’t push me down the stairs! I never met any celebrities! And I hate Ladybug!”
Salo looked at her with surprise. “What? Is this a confessional?”
“I told the truth! Isn’t that what you wanted from me?”
Salo barked a laugh. “You think this is about you?! You’re such a stupid bitch! I can’t believe you actually thought you had anything to do with this!”
“…then…why was I here?” She asked, trembling.
“You were the one broadcasting yourself all over the news! You know, I thought you did have some connection to them, but you actually lied and put yourself in trouble! You’re such an idiot. Why did you think this was a good idea? You’re so desperate for attention that you painted a giant target on your back.” She laughed again, being amused by the whole thing. “You have the gall to believe that you’re important in any capacity? My revenge is against Ladybug and Chat Noir! If you have nothing to do with them, then you’re useless to me!”  
“Marinette!” Lila screamed. “Help me! Please!”
Marinette glared at her. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
Lila cried out, bawling her eyes out, pleading with everyone.
Then the barrel of the gun pulled away. And Salo started laughing. “Wow, harsh. And I thought I went through petty high school drama.” She clicked the gun back into the holster. “But I can’t let Marinette have to satisfaction of you being killed. Warren?” She nodded to a man in the back of the room. “Take her out to some park and leave her. They’ll find her.”
“Yes ma’am,” said the brute.
“But before you go…I want Miss Rossi to witness this.” She held up the spool and needle, holding it in the light. “Pasolini, if you would be so kind?”
Marinette didn’t show any outside signs of panic or fear, but tightened her hands into fists.
Pasolini came from behind, resting one hand on her shoulder, and the other other throat, tilting her chin up.
“You’re not going to fight?” Asked Salo. “No screaming? No kicking?”
“Why? Is it not as fun for you if I behave?” Marinette bit back.
Salo grinned, snapping a rubber glove onto her hand. “You got me there. Still going to sew your mouth shut though.”
Marinette looked to all the world calm and collected, as Salo used a sharpie to mark the inside and outside of her lips, creating the guide.
She took hold of her bottom lip and pulled it forward.
Marinette’s eyebrows drew together as the needle pierced her skin, going in the bottom and out the top. There was no numbing, no relief, only stinging sharp pain. Even when the needle was through, the cotton thread ripped through the puncture. Then Salo moved to the top lip, puncturing through the bottom to the top, and then back down again.
Under and over, a basic stitch pattern. Marinette didn’t make a peep, but the tears still rolled down her cheeks. Blood oozed from the piercings, smearing around and turning Marinette’s mouth red.
Finally, Salo made one last stitch, eight in total, and made sure it was pulled tight. Then she tied it off and snipped the access. “I’m not much of a seamstress, but I think I did pretty good!”
She brought a mirror over so Marinette could see her new look. The way she had done it forced her lips into a pout, and right around the edges there were little black lines were the thread was visible. Testing the strength, Marinette found she could very slightly open her mouth, enough to maybe drink some water, before it hurt.
“Ah, much better! Now I don’t have to listen to your god awful annoying voice anymore!” Salo cheered.
Marinette tore her gaze away from her reflection, to glare at Salo. There was a threat in her eyes, but it would continue to be unvoiced.
“What do you think, Adrien?” asked Salo, turning to him. “You’ve been awfully quiet this evening.”
Adrien whipped his head up, his face full of rage, eyes burning, and hissed at her.
Salo grimaced. “Yikes. Nothing worse than a poorly behaved kitty. Well, we’ll just have to train that out of you.” She waved at a man in the shadows, gesturing him forward. “Warren, you can escort Miss Rossi out now. I don’t particularly care for keeping her around.”
The room went into motion. Lila was bagged again and dragged out of the room, while other devices were brought forward.
For Adrien, it was a large metal rack, with straps for the arms and legs, and a link for the collar around his neck. It almost looked like a cross. He was strapped in, both arms, and his feet were splayed apart.
Then they attached pads with wires to his palms, the pads of his feet, the underside of his arms by his armpits, and the area right below his bellybutton.
Marinette watched all of this with a careful eye, not able to ask questions, but extremely wary. She could have sworn she had seen those pads in a movie or something.
Next, the men moved two metal hoops on stands on either side of her. They weren’t too big. Large enough to comfortably fit her arms through. At it seemed exactly what they wanted her to do.
Then finally, Salo brought over two buckets and a pitcher of water. “Well, don’t you look just absolutely curious?”
Marinette flicked her eyes over all the components in the room, an answer to her question starting to form.
“Now this is a fairly simple device of my own design. You’ll be putting your hands through these hoops, and holding up these buckets of water. As time goes on, I’ll add a little water at a time. All you have to do is hold them still. If you touch the hoop…well…” Instead of finishing the sentence, Salo rested a wooden dowel on the edge of the ring, just touching it ever so briefly.
A spark flew off of it, and Adrien’s whole body seized up for a second. He let out a grunt of pain.
“The longer you touch the ring, the longer the shock. But you can handle this, right? Ladybug is so strong!”
But Marinette wasn’t about to tell her that it was only because of the earrings that she had such heightened strength. It’s not like she could, anyways.
Two goons took hold of her arms and fed them through the hoops. They placed the handles of the buckets in her hands, and then taped her fist closed, so she couldn’t drop them. With the buckets in place, it was impossible to pull her hands back through the hoops.
Even with a few inches of clearance on all sides, she still could feel the static around her wrists. It didn’t help that she was still pretty wet and she was holding metal buckets.
“One last thing,” Salo snickered, placing a bag over Marinette’s head. “Can’t have you knowing where the ring is, right?”
Despite the tape, Marinette clenched the bucket tighter. If that spark was any indication, she’d be shocked too, and a shock could contract her muscles and freeze her in place.
Then water started to pour into the buckets. Just about a cup on each side. But Marinette had lost a lot of muscle in isolation.  
“15 minutes, and then you can go back in your little cage.” Salo giggled, the chair Lila had sat in scrapping across the floor. “Oh, and by the way, if you touch the ring for too long, you could kill Adrien. Those bolts will cross the body, passing by his heart. I know his heart stops when you walk into the room, but let’s not get too literal, huh?”
Maybe it would be a mercy to kill him. Surely it would be painful the whole time, but…no. No, she couldn’t do that. It was just her twisted brain obsessed with death.
Five minutes in, and she was already struggling. Her shoulders, biceps, and even her neck hurt. She hadn’t hit the hoop yet, but it was only a matter of time. Salo added a little more water.
At seven minutes, her arms lowered the tiniest amount too much and she touched the bottom of the ring, sending out a bolt of pain up her arm for a millisecond.
Somewhere in front of her, Adrien barked in pain.
Shortly after, the pain had mostly disappeared, only leaving a slight tingle behind instead.
Another minute passed, and Marinette sank again, the touch lasting a little longer this time. She yelped in pain, pulling at her stitches.
“Uh oh, are we giving up already?”
Marinette was sweating, her muscles trembling. Her elbows felt like they were hyper extended and her wrists ached. The metal handle dug into the crease of her fingers.
Another round of tears cleaned streaks on her dirty face.
Another touch, longer this time. And when she over corrected, she touched the top too, her whole arm convulsing and violently jerking.
Adrien wasn’t fairing much better. He closed his eyes, unable to watch, and waited for the inevitable pain to come.
The first was short, and it also didn’t even hurt. It just caused all of his muscles to contract. The wires in the paddles left a tingling sensation behind.
The next one was worse. There was really no way to describe the sensation except for painful. Excruciatingly painful. A flash of white behind his eyes, every muscle in his body contracting, tightening, and feeling like he was tearing apart. The bolts burned his skin, heat zipping across his flesh and into his bones.
Each touch, even the most gentle, brought agonizing pain to every inch of his body.
He knew he was screaming, but it was unbidden. Happening without his consent.
Once the shock had ended, and the pain had just about subsided, another shock would be inflicted.
Marinette felt like her arms were going to rip off. There couldn’t be more than a liter in either bucket, but they were just so heavy.
She trembled as she tried to hang on. But finally, at the 14 minute mark, her arms gave out, and she collapsed, bringing the rings down with her to the floor.
Sparks flew everywhere, not just burning her arms, but the rest of her as well.
Adrien’s screams sounded like a garbage disposal in the sink. His voice had been destroyed in isolation, and all that was left was gurgling and yowling.
Then it all stopped.
Marinette laid on the floor, her arms itching from burns. She was exhausted, and couldn’t find the strength to do anything but breathe.
“Is that it?” Someone asked.
“Johnson, Check for a pulse.”
Marinette felt someone holding her wrist. “She’s still got one.” Then she waited on bated breath. “He’s got one too.”
Salo pulled the hood off of her head as men ripped the tape off her fingers. “Wow! What a shocking development!”
Marinette opened her mouth to protest, finding the thread looser, but not undone. She also tasted a lot of blood.
Salo plucked one end of the thread and pulled it tight again. “Hmm, that might just leave a scar.”
Marinette pushed up on one arm so she could look at Adrien.
He hung lifelessly by the wrists. His skin was blackened in some areas, in bolt shaped lines. His hair had fluffed up from the static.
Salo snapped in front of his face, but there was no response. “Ugh, guess we’re done. Can hurt someone who’s unconscious, right?”
They were lead back to the first set of cells they had been kept in. She wobbled, but walked on her own, while Adrien was dragged by his working arm.
The tiny cell was almost comforting. Being in the cold, quiet dark. Tucked into a small corner of the world.
She couldn’t speak, but she moaned, making noise to get Adrien’s attention.
He didn’t answer.
Not that she really expected him to.
With a sigh, she slid down to sit, resting her feet against the door.
It groaned in response.
That’s right, these cells were just old ductwork that had been repurposed. The metal wasn’t very thick, like sheets of steel, but it was sharp.
An idea started to roll around in her head. Risky, but plausible. If they were desperate enough.
She was certainly angry enough. But the truth of the matter was that she wasn’t doing anything without Adrien.
So she waited.
Her body demanded rest, but she knew she couldn’t indulge. Not yet. Her arms throbbed from holding up the buckets, and her legs ached from standing after sitting for so long.
But enough wallowing in pain. Now was time for action.
She reached under the door towards Adrien’s cell, her arm fitting a lot easier than when they were first inducted. Perhaps her wasting would be beneficial.
She stood back up, and ran her hands all over the inside of the cell, finding a small camera. She twisted it so it faced away from the door. Then she knelt and got to work.
Very slowly and quietly, she pushed on the bottom of the door, easing it away from her. No sudden movements, or the metal would rattle loudly.
Only a few minutes passed before Adrien groaned from his cell, and shifted, the metal groaning. “My Lady?” He whispered.
She grunted back.
He reached his arm under his door towards her.
For assurance, she patted his hand, but went back to work.
Soon enough, the metal had bent far enough that she could fit her shoulders through. She had to be careful, or else she’d cut herself.
As her feet cleared the threshold, her heart began to pick up in anxiety. She was out. But they weren’t free yet, so she knelt in front of Adrien’s door, and began pulling.
Adrien caught on quickly, and moved the camera just like she had.
This was it. Marinette was banking on the idea that Salo and her men had gotten cocky, and had lowered security for the night.
If not, they were in for a world of pain.
Finally, Adrien was able to crawl out of the little space they had created. He met her eyes in the dim light and smiled at her.
Phase one complete.
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aj-draws · 6 years
Text
Future Sanders Sides Teacher AU Fic Ideas (Pt 1)
Just a little something I’ve been thinking about writing for a long time now??
 These are just ideas!! I might make oneshots here and there, but I want to try and make this into an actual story on Wattpad or something during summer vacation.
[[Thank you so very much for getting me to post this @royallyanxious you’re amazing :) Oh and btw I was that anon that said they liked your Logicality FBI agent AU fanfic. I’m super anxious but I hope you like this anyway!]]
[[Tag list: @izzynuggets, @diadrip]] 
Summary: The sides are teachers in a highschool that Thomas and his friends go to. 
-It’s also sort of a human AU as well. The sides will naturally have different last names, which I have not entirely decided yet. (+Afterschool they all have part time jobs across the street from each other but there’ll be more about that in a part two or three I’ll try getting to in the future)
[[Characters]]
Logan:
-Science teacher (Living Environment honors and/or Chemistry)  
-Part time job as a librarian
-Wants to keep being a teacher
-Speaks fluently in salty
-His choice of wear is a mix between casual and formal. Slicked back hair (with hair gel), tightly fitted polo shirts, leather belts, jeans and his signature blue and black tie 
-Definitely wears different ties with a theme fitted for each and every holiday 
-Can accurately quote books off the top of his head
-When he's too tired to do anything, he just binges Doctor Who and Sherlock with his classes
-(Based on this one Logan skit on Thomas’ insta I think y’all know what I’m talking about) He brought an entire toaster that he keeps in his classroom just so he could eat toast with Crofter’s 24/7.
-He eats Crofter’s with everything he eats and it scares everyone sometimes. Like he’ll just be casually teaching as he spreads the jam onto a slice of pizza and everyone’s a little concerned 
-Once during a test he sees one of his students struggling and suddenly their stomach rumbles loudly and as everyone laughs he just makes them a sandwich and tells them that they could take the test tomorrow
-Whenever a student doodles on one of their assignments, he finishes the picture with a crayon and he loves it when they see it and smile it makes his day
-He’s that teacher that you’re terrified of at first but then you realize they’re awesome (He has a resting bitchface that scares the heck out of everyone on the first day of school)
-Him being a sort of psychologist toward his students and they come to him (and Patton) with problems and mental breakdowns. He’s terrible at the comforting part of what to do when a person’s crying, but he’s excellent at figuring out the students’ problem or problems at helping them change their schedule/bad habits to fix it
-Him reassuring his students that-no matter what society says-just because they aren't good at math or science doesn't mean that they're useless and stupid+grades are not everything
-His students adoring him for being so realistic and understanding that school can be stressful sometimes
-His students calling him mom
-Him being so sleep deprived one day that as he was writing something on the board, he used incorrect grammar and once he got corrected, he just slowly walks over to his desk and sits under it for a solid minute 
-He hardly ever loses his cool. Ever. He handles those few immature kids in his class with ease, threatening them firmly or just completely roasting them so that they’re too busy laughing/being stunned to disrupt class. 
-But once he just gave up. He silently turns around and s n a p s. 
-He lets out this unholy screech that echoes throughout the school and shakes the nearby classrooms and scares away the birds perched on a tree outside and the chalk in his hand breaks in half the students are terrified they’ve never heard a sound of that volume from Logan’s mouth and they’re wondering if this is is what they’ll hear when the pits of hell breaks open at their feet-
-And then Logan just pauses. He takes a long drink from the water bottle on his desk, sets it down, adjusts his tie, clears his throat, then continues on with the lesson like nothing happened. Everyone agrees that that’s the scariest thing they’ve ever seen and heard in their lives. 
Patton:
-Art and home economics teacher (He has one homeroom art class in the morning, then a home ec class after lunch where he teaches stuff like cooking/baking, time management, money management, food, etc...)
-Part time job as a barista
-Wants to own his own bakery (or just be a stay at home dad)
-Speaks fluently in puns
-Whenever he has a student that he thinks is in a bad mood, he personally tapes some sort of dessert he baked to their locker on a plate with a nice post-it note taped to it
-His students call him dad
-During a rainy day, he sees some kid waiting for their late parent to pick them up outside at dismissal and he walks up to them and covers their head with his cardigan and invites them inside his classroom instead of waiting in the rain
-He frequently gets into pun/prank wars with his students
-Depending on how he’s feeling, when he sees a student sleeping in class, he’ll either blast an airhorn into their ear or lay a blanket on their back there’s no in between
-Once his class was so loud and rambunctious and he got so stressed out because he didn’t know how to deal with it that he just started crying and his students had to comfort him and no one dared to make him cry ever again
-He once forgot where he lost his glasses while he was cooking something and he asked his students to help him find them and they looked for them the entire period and no one could find it
-No one told him his glasses were right atop his head.
Roman:
-Drama teacher (Sometimes subs for the Chorus teacher, who is always absent because she's very sickly)  
-Part time job as a florist/works at a flower shop
-Wants to be a future actor on broadway
-Speaks fluently in Disney songs/musical references
-The most fashionable out of the four. He has a bunch of different outfits depending on the season. For winter and fall, he wears lots of sweaters, leather jackets, dress pants, scarves and sometimes flannel around the waist. For summer and spring, he’ll be wearing button downs, sunglasses, loose t-shirts, and jeans/shorts. 
-During play rehearsal, he puts on a red sash (and his Princey clothing basically) because he claims he needs to get ‘in the play spirit’ (when in reality he just likes wearing his old prince costume from a play he was in in the past)
-Not all of his students like him (he can be vv loud and extravagant), but his theater kids honestly adore him. They love his passion for singing, acting and musicals.
-They cheer Roman on and completely support his dream of performing on broadway one day. They secretly (and shamelessly) support him every chance they can get on social media.
-That teacher that, when he sees an artsy student, will catch them drawing during class and instead of telling them to pay attention will fanboy over their art and tell them how amazing it looks so usually art students also love him
-Knows the latest gossip about a lot of the students in the school
-Purposely casts the two students he knows has a crush on each other as the two main characters that have to stage kiss 
-One of his students gave him a Burger King crown and he cried and wore it for the rest of the week and attacked any other teacher that tried to take it off his head (*cough cough* Virgil *cough*)
Virgil:
-English teacher
-Part time job as a tattoo artist/works at a tattoo shop
-Wants to be a YouTuber/blogger (and write stories online)
-Speaks fluently in sarcasm/memes
-On the first day of school he wears normal teacher like clothing, but then the rest of the year he wears hoodies and casual t-shirts and sweatpants that he hides under a long jacket (he’s technically supposed to be all formal and whatever, but he ain’t got time for that)
-He dreams to get this original story he's been working on for years published one day. This story is basically a fantasy AU involving characters based off him, Logan, Patton and Roman.
-When he reads excerpts from books, his kids go wild because he can do Thomas' narrator/storyteller voice (the one where his voice drops a million octaves) 
-Whenever a woman/girl speaks, his voice jumps up a million octaves and he purposely squeaks/sounds like someone on helium and it gets his classes cracking up
-The kind of guy that uses the dankest of memes on worksheets/in presentations
-A lot of students really love him. The ones who like ELA are in love with his writing and storytelling. The one who don't even like ELA still like his class because he's good at keeping them engaged.
-Just like Logan, he has a natural talent for mercilessly roasting those immature kids that fool around in his class
-He'll randomly ramble away and sink into a hole of existential crisis but his students still like that side of him because it's just relatable.
-He's incredibly flexible and he can be found sitting/lying on places that probably shouldn't be sat/laid on. Once he was just casually reading a book sitting in one of those pretzels on his desk and a student screeched.
-He constantly gets compared to a cat. He hisses at Roman when he's frustrated with him, the students find him on top of furniture that isn't meant to be sat on, he says perfect as 'purrfect' and his noise twitches a lot. He used to be like nahh whatcha talking about until Roman gifted him with a cat plushie one day and he finally admitted that cats were his favorite animal (Bonus-His students joke about him being a furry a lot)
-His artsy students draw him fanart all the time and he loves it sooo much. (Bonus-Someone drew him, Pat, Roman and Lo as cats and he almost cried)
((There’s part one! Part two will either be about their part time jobs, or their interactions with each other as teachers. Feedback is greatly appreciated, thank you!!))
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greasergirls · 6 years
Text
Football Quarterback | Darrel Curtis
A/N: Collab with @littlewolfdiaries! Happy to put this long gem out there.
Pairing: Highschool Darry x Reader
Warning(s): SMUT, so much sin
Summary: Reader and Darry have an arrangement, one that’s very fulfilling, but it comes to a startling end when his parents unexpectedly die.
Part 2 Preview: Reader reconnects with Darry years later, and they realize just how they’ve changed and miss each other.
_______________________
Part 1
October 12, 1962.
He approaches your desk as you fidget with the plastic spiral of your notebook, pencil resting against your bottom lip. Football jerseys have a way about making their possessors look godly, or so you’ve noticed.
As if by magic, your attention is averted from the dusty chalkboard and its written page number. You have no idea, and you won’t have any idea, what the significance of the War of Camden is. A true, blatant tragedy.
Only, now he’s not walking towards you. He’s walking past you to get to his friend three seats behind you.
Desperation: an eleven-letter long word you completely and entirely embody as you take out a loose leaf sheet of paper.
He’s discussing his strategy for that big game tonight with his thick voice. Your pencil flies across the paper in haste.
No, it’s not a love letter. If it was it would have a quirkier title like, ‘Dear Darrel Curtis, Fire of My Loins’ instead of a pathetic call for help to your best friend. You think she’s your best friend, anyway.
He’s talking to you when he asks if you’re going to the game tonight. You are, you reply, cautiously flipping over the thousand word grand manifesto of your teenage hormones.
“You know, I always thought you were a—”
“— Junior, I know.”
“Huh,” he remarks, contemplative as usual. Darry’s undoubtedly Paul Newman, but you can’t deny the way he pulls off Brando. “You’re only a baby, aren’t you?”
October 21, 1962.
His hair doesn’t ruffle like yours does as he slides off your top. You run your hands down him. The muscles aren’t taut, but they’re defined and hard.
Darry’s kissing you hard as you undo his pants. His tongue kneads yours, searching and exploring your mouth. For whatever reason, you don’t think he’d ever remove his jeans himself.
Must be a pride thing, you decide. He’s a good guy underneath the limelight layers.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He questions as your warm panties slip past your ankles.
You’re trying to convince yourself that there is a micro-shred of modesty left within you so you leave your soft pink skirt on.
It pools around you as you climb onto the boy’s lap. He leaves your thin shirt on, groping underneath for the clasp to your bra. He finds it.
His jaw is clean-shaven. You’ve never really seen him without it all like that. Blue-eyed puppy.
A big good puppy, though, you note as a hand grabs hard at your breast. Involuntarily, you moan and turn the dark hue of a ripe strawberry. It’s okay, he assures you, I wanna hear you.
Darry rubs the fabric of your plain blouse against your nipple using only his large thumb. You flinch, unused to the sensation. It’s better with the top on.
When his thumb skims over the peak of both, you can’t control yourself any longer. You’d much rather just get things going.
“Are you hard?” You ask. The question itself is not vulgar, but you experience an inexplicable rush of a welcomed wave of confidence.
“Almost,” he answers before running both hands through his hair. He’s lying.
You take advantage of the opportunity presented and scoot into his chest. Your lips find his neck as you press yourself into him, grinding and rolling your hips.
Darry groans deep within his throat. It’s so odd; you can feel his large member against you through his underwear, erect and throbbing. It’s hot and just barely dips past your wet lips as you hungrily hump his hips.
His jaw is clenched tight. He demands that you grab him, temporarily losing himself in his saturated sensations.
Your hands pulls back the waistband of the white undergarment, reaching for his thick cock. Rolling a light finger over his head you spread his pre-cum and find the lubrication perfect for petting his bulging veins.
Your fingers slowly glide over them. They look angry, his dick so big and eager. Imagining the tip of your tongue tracing his veins makes you throb.
“Fuck,” Darry lets out as you tighten your grip on him, finally guiding his length to your wet pussy.
The tip slips in and you both loudly moan in surprise. However, you have trouble getting more of him in.
“You’re so tight,” he says. His eyes screw shut for a few seconds and his hands find your hipbones.
Darry pulls you down onto him without warning. Bruises begin to form as you cry out. He fills you up with a sickly sweet combination of pain and pleasure.
You pull yourself up in anticipation of slamming back down on his hips. His length appears from inside you, slick. Everything feels raw. Girth and length morph together to create his veiny member, the definition of perfection.
He lets you take one more ride before pulling out and pushing you flat onto your back. Darry spreads open your legs, still in your pretty skirt, and snickers at the excitement that overtakes your features when he haphazardly slaps his cock against your clit, accidentally sliding into your folds every-so-often.
His first thrust isn’t bad. He manipulates your leg to a strange degree with the promise it’ll feel better. It does, you can feel his cock hitting against your wall and it sends you into a song of cries and whimpers.
His blue eyes slam shut as he lets out a string of moans and groans, twitching as he pulls his length out of your tight little pussy.
Darry halts his rhythm with a growled warning, “I think I’m gonna cum.”
“Where?” He didn’t wear anything.
He reaches for a small towel before you stop him. “Cum on me,” you order.
You don’t have ask more than once. Darry lifts your shirt up to your collarbones with speed, cumming all over your stomach and boobs.
Your own high follows suit, as does your inquiry of the taste of Darry’s cum. His finger collects the warm liquid off the swell of your tits, popping it into your mouth.
His eyes flutter closed as your tongue circles his wide digit in a variety of techniques, grabbing his hand to add more. You suck his fingers like you wish you could his dick, hard and unrelenting.
Darry hums and asks when you want to meet next.
———————
His parents aren’t home Saturday night. They took his siblings. Darry’s home alone and he calls you, knowing you’ll come.
You sit down on his couch. You’re stiff and uncomfortable, legs crossed too tight with a straight spine.
He holds out a hand, helping you stand. “You like things rough, don’t you?”
Without responding, you simply blush.
“Suck my dick.”
He pushes you at your shoulders back onto the couch where you topple down, his hips eye-level.
Darry feels so out of character, but satisfied with his effects on you. He can’t wait to tell his friends about this.
You palm at his jeans, feeling for an erection. “I’m not starting you off,” you say, hoping for leverage.
“Come on,” he begs.
You manage to push him onto the couch next to you and get up. He smirks, assuming you’ll drop to your knees in front of him.
Instead you drop yourself onto one of his thighs. The friction against your pussy is a welcome feeling. He groans, but you can see the tent forming in his pants so you keep going.
“Alright,” he says thickly. “You promised.”
Smiling, you make yourself comfortable kneeling on the floor and force his jeans down.
“You better do it good.” Darry says, suddenly playful. “If you want to get fucked, anyways.”
“You’ll see,” you lick your lips. You’re committed to this and he can see it. You figure Darry’s dick is good to practice on— big enough and thick. You want the reassurance and security of knowing you give good head.
You lick his tip multiple times like a lollipop, running your tongue flat and hard against his sensitive slit. Next, you make a show of licking the length of his cock.
A hand shoots out to cup his balls which you rub gently as you fit as much of Darry’s length into your mouth as you can. You suck at it, cheeks hollowing.
You take him out and spread the wetness with your hand, pumping him and running your thumb along his head a few times. His hips buck towards you.
You put his dick back in your mouth again, bobbing up and down. Your hand manages the rest. Teasingly, your fingers hardly meet as you stroke him.
He cums so quickly after you leave open-mouthed kisses on his balls, you’re disappointed.
You hold him as he twitches, cumming all over the bottom of his shirt.
“That was so good,” he breathes after a string of curses. He removes his stained shirt. “Holy fuck.”
You smirk, he’s such a teenage boy. Always acting experienced, dominant. The popular football captain; millions of girls crushing over him, but he’s a good boy (yet supposedly lost his virginity at 15 and has been at it ever since).
“We should do this forever,” Darry says, dreamily, recovering from his high.
You never expect his parents to die so suddenly. You never expect his boyish innocence, his naivety to completely fade away.
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m0oranshi · 6 years
Text
Diary of a cinephile - Entry 3 (Heavy, heavy Creepy and Cult edition)
I decided to try and do my diaries in a more themed way so it’s not all random shit always. Those are fun but this way, if you see a theme that interests you, these entries would be much easier if you want recommendation. I only comment on those I have seen the past few months though, so it’s never a ‘top ten’ list or anything, just those that were memorable and stuck with me.
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And for most of these, I didn’t find any gifs. So if you see them, you can brag how you found those niche yet pearl movies, because I went through them for you and found the best (not really but you get the point. It’s nice to be a film-douche sometimes.)
Sound Of My Voice
Non-fiction, cult, drama, indie
Peter Aitken: Somewhere in the valley, there is a woman living in a basement. She's actually amassing followers. These people believe that she will actually lead them to salvation, or whatever. And yes, she's dangerous - but we have to see this thing through. All the way.
Trailer (not really necessary to watch, don’t if you read what I say below.)
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A sickly woman claims she’s from the future and is searching for the right survivors to save once some huge event comes. A skeptic journalist infiltrates the highly secretive meetings to report and expose her sham. But is it a sham?
I feel like there is a huge change coming to indie film. It used to be where they were overly pretentious in order to gather awards, but they figured out with their small budget, to actually be enjoyable, you have to be straight to the point, (though I love me some ambiguity if done well.) I thank Netflix for that. It’s a nice and welcome change.
Though this movie is very open to interpretation, it is very in your face as well. I had been waiting to see a story of a cult being told so bluntly, I feel like most of them skim over the horribleness. It is disgusting, it does mess with your mind, nobody is immune once they get in your head. And they always know just HOW.
The ending left me a bit like ‘uuuh, whaa...? I thought they’d tell us.’ because I didn’t know if I liked it. But reviewing all the subtle hints left in the movie, I think I know the answer and it’s even more horrifying than I imagined.
Hint: it has to do with pedophilia.
+ Bonus Point: Not afraid to show... things that do happen. But also not shoving it in your face for shock value.
++ Bonus Point: Never dragging on. It told what it wanted to tell and it was never boring.
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The Endless
science fiction, psychological thriller, fantasy, cult
For some reason always angry walking guy: You just follow this... *scribbles nonsense* map, and these loop-marker... hoodoo... fuckamajiggs, and you bring me back a real nice gun.
Trailer (People say it gives too much away but I really don’t. You’d have to be a genius figuring out what is going on with just this. Though if you want incredible visuals being a surprise, don’t watch. Maybe 20 seconds or so so you get an idea of how gorgeous it is.)
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Two boys escaped a ‘Cult’ when they were young and are now living day by day. The younger brother remembers it complely different than the older though, and in order to help him with his therapy, the oldest agrees to go back for....
One. Last. Time.
I have no idea why this movie is already so underrated. My god, did I have weird fun with this one. Every five minutes I had to re-arrange my previous conception of the whole situation, and every five minutes it gets weirder, and weirder, and weirder.
Just like the main characters, you have absolutely no idea what to think or believe, but you KNOW something is off. This is a very creative spin, an almost symbolic one of what defines a cult. It’s part science-fiction, part reality, part thriller, part fantasy, and from every genre they took the best parts and smushed it together into something incredible.
You DO have to re-arrange your brain a few times, maybe that’s why it’s not that loved. It’s not a movie you watch if you want answers NOW.
+ Bonus Point: It’s friggin gorgeous. The cinematography is so spot on, and the subtle effects they used gave me the absolute creeps because they remind me of exactly how it feels like to be living in a nightmare.
++ Bonus Point: Accurate tough brotherly love representation. It’s never all sunshine and rainbows.
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The Gift                                
non-fiction, psychological thriller, indie
Gordo: It's all in the eyes, you see. You see what happens when you poison other people's mind with ideas?          
People can be evil to no end. The worst torture is mental, because it’s a wound that never really heals.
trailer : Don’t watch it, maybe a few seconds. It’s way more effective if you just let the creepiness wash over you.
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A socially awkward guy wants to be friends, because you’ve been a dick to them in the past. To make ammends? Or is he delusional, has ulterior motives, or are you the one that is evil, what is going on? Do you feel pity and if you do does that make it worse?
I think this is another Netflix movie, I’m not sure. But for the budget, once again, they fucking blew my mind. It portrays exacly how mean people can be, how you never really grow out of highschool, how ‘adulthood’ is a lie. Nobody suddenly becomes a saint, and you never, ever stop hurting people or be the hurt one.
Some fix it one way, others... Well.
They give you ‘a gift’.
And it’s worse than a death sentence.
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Phone Booth
The Caller: You're in this position because you're not telling the truth.
Stu: No, I'm in this fucking position because YOU HAVE A GUN!
Trailer: These old trailers make no sense so yeah, watch. Don’t think for a second it’s representative of it though.
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This is something completely different, but I wanted to include it because it’s the most riviting movie ever (’Speed’ also made me pee my pants a little but this one is still better). INSIDE A FRIGGIN PHONE BOOTH.
It’s the perfect example for directors that don’t know how to make a blast, to show them you don’t need exploding cars, airplanes, whatever, if you are so desperate to make a bang, you know mental breakdowns feel exactly the same way when in confined spaces.
It was horrible, HORRIBLE to experience the same claustophobia but portrayed SO REAL for an ahum... ‘action movie’.
+ Bonus Point: I had no idea time had even passed. I guess that’s what they call ‘clinging to people’s lips’. I watched and suddenly it was so much time later.
Making these things takes time. I think my next subject will be ‘feel good’ movies, because I’ve watched them in between to keep my sanity.
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evamagi · 7 years
Text
Too much girl
This story is about excess, not of the physical kind but of the emotional and social. Because sometimes you don’t just binge on a TV show, or drink too much, or shop more than your allotted budget, sometimes you binge on a person, open up too much, go at a relationship too fast and too hard too soon.
I’m writing this to settle some things about acceptance and being yourself, because people always tell you to be yourself, you hear it everywhere nowadays, but when you are, sometimes you will come to the point in a relationship, be it friendship or romantic, where you are told that being you is not what they want anymore, because you are “too much”.
In my most recent exploit of being “too much” I lost someone that had come to mean a great deal to me, and the pain I felt led me to think something I had never thought about in my life. It was the first time I thought I should change.
I’ve always been very headstrong and unmovable in by beliefs and what kind of person I was. No matter my mistakes I always said “Hey as long as I’m alive I’m fine” or “Biologically speaking I only need myself to live”. I always thought whoever likes me, likes me for who I am. Narcissistically, I never considered, maybe I’m not that great of a person, to be liked that way. It wasn’t until I alienated that person that I questioned some things about myself.
It all started with this friend, we had known each other for years, we were close but never actually talked a great deal outside of the times we went out with our group of friends, until this summer when we both had some very important exams coming up, so we found some solace in bitching to each other about our respective struggles, cramming for those exams.
Everything started slow at first, with “Hey, how’s it going for you?”, and things went, in my typical dramatic fashion, to “Oh my god, I’m running away to Chile if I don’t make it”. He thought I was funny, and my antics would de-stress him. And his grounded “You’re not running away to Chile” would calm me down. I would tell him about flight times and the value of the chilean peso and he’d tell me he can’t stand anymore chemistry and biology.
Come August, he passed his exam and so did I but my grade didn’t allow me to move further. Essentially although I had gotten a good mark, it wasn’t enough to get me on the number of available spots so, in essence, I failed. Of course I congratulated him and he consoled me, and so we continued to talk into September.
The conversations had evolved from whining about the exams to sharing our day to day lives, telling funny stories, to getting down to personal issues, inner demons, insecurities and to even starting to have specific nicknames and phrases for each other.
He would calm me down in my biggest depressions after my failure, would be there to tell me everything would be OK, he’d be there to make me laugh and he became so special to me so fast, I didn’t realize how special until the rug was pulled from under me and he said he just couldn’t handle me anymore because I’m too dramatic.
He said that keeping me company wasn’t bad at first and he really wanted to make me feel better after I failed my exam, but that he just couldn’t anymore, that for awhile now I had been getting out of hand and he didn’t know how to fix me and that was putting strain on him too. That he thought I would be better in a month or so and he could let go of my hand then. That he wanted to be nice but he didn’t expect the relationship to go that way, that it was taking too much out of him. He insisted I was a sweet girl and that he believed I would find my way someday, but that we just can’t talk anymore like we had been talking.
It wasn’t the first time this happened to me but it was the first time I was completely devastated by it, because it was the first time I had gotten in so deep and felt so safe about talking to someone, the end was not something I was expecting.
He had encouraged me to talk, told me to be more bold, and that I didn’t have to hold myself back, that I could be myself because I’m fun and nice and sweet.
So many words that got me so excited that I was being fully accepted by a guy for the first time, no holes barred. No, not just accepted by a guy, accepted by another person completely, without having to worry about flaws and all that.
For the first time, I didn’t hide anything about myself, not from him. I spilled my guts so much I would be ashamed to do it again now, but it felt so good then, to get it all out and to only be met with understanding.
I think for the first time, despite not being in a great place in life, I felt high on life. Waking up wasn’t a chore and sleep wasn’t an escape. I didn’t need to distract myself from my problems, I was distracted by him and I could talk about them too, when I felt like it.
I thought at first, that finding out he had been forcing himself to talk and be nice to me, was the worst heartache I have ever felt in my entire life. Realizing - after the initial shock wore off, and I sat down a bit to think- that I had made that situation happen, that I had pushed myself onto him too hard. That, was even worse. I had taken a good thing and ran with it. I ran it into the ground, because of my excess. I made him get tired of me.
It suddenly hit me. I was taking up all of his time, and I was making all my time be about him. For 2 months I took up every single waking moment of his life. Wanting to be close, I smothered him. Because he made me feel so good I was holding on so tight, I never wanted to lose him. It was like I had a death grip on our bond. I realized, what I had actually been doing was something very sickly.
I felt so happy talking to him, but the thing is, in reality I had just pushed my real issues to the background and nuzzled into my safe little bunker, formed around talking to this person. My daily routine that I loved so much, I came to realize was bad, because as good as it felt it was also preventing me from confronting my current problems. In truth, I hadn’t moved on from my failed exam, I hadn’t done anything in those past months. I was still in the same place, failure, just sugar coated by a sweet relationship.
One of the previous guys I had experienced this sort of letdown with said I am a woman of extremes and that I am missing the middle ground. I agree with this statement and it’s not something I was oblivious too, but I was so sure I can just be myself this time around I completely forgot myself, I let loose.
Now I am here and every day is a struggle remembering how it used to be. I saw a post on 9gag recently that said that the hardest thing in life is not talking anymore to someone you used to talk to every day. I can’t possible say it’s the hardest thing in life but I can attest to the fact that it’s pretty damn tough. It’s a feeling of void and you know not when you will feel whole again, because you’re missing this thing that had become a big part of your life. You also feel restless, like an addict off his drugs. I can make this comparison because it’s the same feeling I had after I quit smoking. Addiction is the perfect word, because as I said, this is a story about excess. And I binged on this person hard, I overdosed on him.
Even if it wasn’t good for me to fall into that niche, it still hurts. Even though now I can focus on getting shit I should have been doing done, the feeling of losing that person is real. Because even though the routine was bad, the feelings I had developed were real, and even though it was a vicious cycle, and I am aware it’s better that I got out of it, getting down from that high I was on is still painful. Yes, I can focus on getting my life back on track now, but it’s without that person I developed feelings for, and it hurts.
If you’re reading this and you can relate I’m sorry I can’t write this from a place of healing, because I’m not healed. I feel lost, I feel confused, I feel betrayed, sad, angry, melancholic. I miss him, because talking to him make me feel good in a bad time and it gave me a routine that would distract me from negative thoughts and I hate him because he put an end to that, and now I’m in another dark period. But I love him for being there for me in my darkest hours and for wanting to help me mend, for wanting to make me feel good, and I love him because he realized in the end it wasn’t doing me any favors and he put a stop to it, because I wasn’t in the mindset to stop it.
I can neither completely love nor hate him, and not being able to settle on one emotion makes it very hard to move on. I don’t know when I will be healed, I can only say I have been healed before from similar heartaches. It takes time and a fair amount of crying, but as cliche as it sounds, I know it does get better.
While I’m crying though, I’m still a woman, and so I don’t just cry, I think. I have been thinking a lot. This episode, as I said, has made me wonder about myself.
I for one, I’ve always been too much. I’ve been told I can be the best person and I can be the worst person. I remember being called hysterical in highschool, and I remember all the times I cried over things that seem like nothing now, and I realized over the years I can be highly negative and dramatic. I’ve been called obsessive, impulsive, demanding. And I think it’s all true, I admit it. But I just feel things that deeply.
In those times, the things I cried about were just hurting me that much. And I know the saying “someone has it worst than you”, but I can’t find solace in that, it’s just not how I work. Just because someone else has it worst it doesn’t make me feel my pain less. That person is hurting for something and I’m hurting for something else. My something can be less compared to their something, but my something is still going to hurt me the same.
I don’t really know what to do with myself anymore.  
On the one hand I think I should change, but on the other hand I think I don’t want to change just because of one person. Or that some other people in the past have had a problem with the way I am. Because as negative as I am, there were times, a lot of them too, where I had fun just being me. I enjoyed the way I am. And through all my drama and negativeness I still managed to come out in the end and laugh about it later. So that is why I have a side that thinks the way I am is not that bad after all.
Thinking through it all, I still come back to my fresh pain and that person, like a circle.
Change should be for yourself, but I got to care for him so much and I’m so sorry I lost him that, because of him, right now, I can’t just dismiss the notion of change, as much as one part of me is telling me to just forget and continue to be me. Losing him because of the way I was makes me question myself.
Supposedly admitting your faults - in this case that I was “too much” - that you have some things you need to work on, that you need correcting, is not a sign of weakness. It’s suppose to mean that you are strong enough to admit you have a problem and that wanting to fix it is a good thing.
But why does it feel like weakness then? How do we reconcile that being you wasn’t good enough? Because this isn’t just some regular fault, this is admitting that you, a person as a whole, have a problem with the way you are.
We want to be a strong confident woman, and a situation comes where you were headstrong and it didn’t get me what you wanted and you realize it was because of who you are.
So what do you do when you get this thought that yourself needs correcting? Because I still believe you should always be yourself, but I am fully aware, that does not mean that you are perfect or that yourself leaves no room for being a better self.
Admitting to yourself that you need to correct your attitude is the first step in becoming a better version of yourself. And I want to be a better version of myself but there still is this part of me that laments and wrestles with that idea, because she thinks. “Why was the way I am now not good too? Is it so bad I’m intense? That I love passionately? That I want to share everything with the person I love.”
What I’ve learned for certain out of this recent experience is that some people will tell you to be yourself as a form of encouragement or just to be “nice”. It’s good to understand this for the next time someone says “be yourself”, because some people will actually mean it while some won’t.  It’s important to know and grasp the notion that sometimes it can not actually be meant literally and wholeheartedly. That phrase isn’t an automatic green light to be yourself.
The root of the problem, I think, that made me be “too much” is because I jumped in head first and get elated on the fact that I was being listened to and I just got high on the attention, that is where the excess stems from.
I was lonely and the attention really hit the spot at that time. Also being lonely is an emotion that makes us do things we’re not going to be proud of most times. I felt ashamed after my failure but I wanted to seem strong to my family, but because he knew how much the exam had meant to me from our previous conversations during cram times, I didn’t have to hide from him. I could let it all out. I realize now, rather than letting it all out with that person because he told me to be myself, I should have just dripped myself to that person bit by bit, and see how that worked. Maybe that would have gone better.
It’s very easy to get lost in a new relationship and what to tell that person everything but guarding your heart and not being yourself all at once will do you more good than opening up so much only to be shut down.
No matter the circumstances it’s always disappointing when you begin a new relationship and you are in the getting to know each other period and you are so eager to talk and tell that person everything, and after you were given signals to do so, you only come to a sudden stop one day and just are told “I can’t do this anymore, you are too much”.
My problem, and probably yours too, is that I know the theory, what I should do, but the feelings I have had for myself, the person I have been over the years, are rejecting the solution.
And so, trying to reconcile the two sides I have in me, one thinking I need to change and one not seeing a need to change, I’ve concluded that it’s important to know to be yourself but also remember that in a society you live with others and you must adjust to the fact that you cannot just run wild with “being yourself” just because someone had the initiative to tell you that.
Coming to terms with the fact that you can’t just be yourself is a difficult process. You will have to admit and gulp that maybe, it’s not the other person’s problem for not accepting you, it is yours. It is your problem to fix, if people keep telling you, you are “too much”.
Some people will only tolerate you in small amounts. And if you genuinely like those people and want them in your life you will have to not go crazy on them from the start, if you know you are likely to fall into that, and maybe with time you can be fully yourself with them as well.
You cannot be yourself with everyone equally. Be yourself in moderation.
I think.
As I said I’ve figured out the theory but coming to a decision is a long torment because I have to wrestle with the feeling of defeat, because somehow in my mind this smells like some sort of lost battle to me.
As with the letdown of losing someone dear because of the way I acted, my change in attitude will take time. I can’t just draw some conclusions, pick one way to be and just go out of the house one day and be that way.
Change will come, it will be progressive, and I believe being aware is the first step to it. And that, is the best I can do right now.
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babybottlepop96 · 3 years
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Manananggal (Chapter One)
Summary: Captain Levi Ackerman of the Trost Town Police Department, TTPD, find himself stuck in a peculiar case Now he has to catch a potential serial killer while trying keep the ones he loves and cares about safe.
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 The breeze wafted through the open apartment window, the curtains blowing softly in the wind that entered the pale green room. The lights have been off for a few hours, the early morning barely letting anyone stay awake. Everyone was too tired, with the weekend finally coming to a close and the parties and bars having closed for the night, everyone was tucked safely under the warmth of their blankets, snoozing softly against their plush pillows. The man lying in the green room felt like the rest of the town, tired beyond exhaustion and his head had the pillow, falling asleep instantly, still in his party clothes. He was usually very cautious, making sure doors were locked and windows were sealed, but tonight? He couldn’t be bothered, besides, nothing bad has happened in his hometown in the last decade, he felt safe inside the comfort of his apartment. 
When morning came and the time for work came, the man never woke up. Not for his alarm, not for the missed calls from his coworkers for the next three days. Not even for the sound of a fist pounding against the wooden door. “Mr. Wilson! It’s Annie! Open up! I found your cat! Little bastard tried sneaking into my home this morning. Poor thing looks like he hasn’t eaten in days!” Annie paused as she scratched the cat’s ears, causing the small animal to purr in delight at the welcomed affection. “Mr. Wilson?” Annie opened the door to room thirty-seven. She wandered into the apartment, curiosity getting the better of her. “He probably left for work early today.” She entered the bedroom, a blood curdling scream escaped her lips as she spotted a very deceased Mr. Wilson, his body looked pale and sickly.
“So, Levi,” The short ravenette looked towards his superior with a questioning gaze. “What do you think happened?” The blonde haired, blue eye male asked his captain.
“Well, Mr. Smith, I’m not entirely sure. There seems to be no visible signs of foul play, and he was in relatively healthy condition, but we will know more once the coroner takes a look.” Levi spoke as he wrote down a few details about the scene in front of him. 
“Very good, Captain. Let me know what the coroner says as soon as you find out, understood?” 
“Roger. Oh, Petra is having a housewarming party this Saturday. She asked me to invite you.” Levi spoke, his monotone voice always a delight to Erwin Smith’s ears.
“Sounds fun, tell her I’ll be there.” He smiled as he walked out, heading back to the office to await the coroner's report.
“Levi~!” A voice rang out amongst the police crowded room causing Levi to flinch and internally groan.
“Hange, about time you got here, get Mr. Wilson out of here, I need his report ASAP.” Levi spoke, turning to leave before he caught up in another two hour long story about how they dissected a guy to find out he died from some strange disease that hadn’t been discovered, or about what she did for a date night last night.
“Roger, Captain!” Hange spoke happily, making Levi wonder how in the world someone could be so cheery all the damn time. Levi exited the apartment and briskly walked towards his favorite little cafe to grab a hot cup of tea and a biscuit before he made his way to the police station.
“Hey, Captain~!” The voice of his favorite employee rang out the almost empty room. Only a few patrons occupied a few booths along the far wall, all idly chatting away about their day.
“Hello, Eren. The usual, please.” Levi spoke, a small smirk forming on his otherwise neutral face.
“Right away, sir.” Eren smiled, his emerald eyes sparkling as he made the man his black tea. Levi placed the amount owed on the counter and the brunette poured the tea into a freshly cleaned cup. “Another case?” He asked, placing the cup in front of the shorter male.
“Unfortunately.” Was the only word he spoke before taking a sip, eyes closing at the delectable taste dancing around his taste buds. “Well, better be off to the office.” Levi downed the rest of the remaining burning liquid and made his way to the door.
“Will I see you for lunch?” Eren called and Levi turned to see a hopeful glimmer in the young man’s eyes.
“Of course, I can't say no to those eyes.” Levi smiled faintly as the green orbs shone as brightly as Eren’s smile. Levi exited the establishment, smiling to himself. ‘Eren really is something else.’ He thought to himself, accidentally bumping into someone as he strolled down the town streets.
“Oh! Captain! I’m so sorry!” The young, sandy blonde, hazel eyed male apologized. 
“It’s fine, Kirstein.” His voice back to the monotone, face stoic as ever. “There should be a phone and computer heading your way back at the station. Get whatever you can from those and I’ll be by in about three hours for a report.”
“Understood, Sir.” Jean spoke, pushing his thin framed glasses up his nose. “See you later, Sir.” Jean hurried along his way, weaving his way through the crowd that was quickly forming. Levi sat down in his office, folders opened as he looked through Mr. Wilson’s history. 
“Mr. Harold Wilson, age thirty-one, no living relatives, works a mediocre job at a telemarketing company, no spouse or any romantic relationship.” Levi spoke as he read the file aloud, thought quietly, to himself. “Used to play baseball in highschool, fairly good at it until he got a concussion from a ball hitting him in the head, suffered minimal brain damage but ultimately ended his baseball ‘career’. Fairly good grades, not many friends though.” Levi continued to scan the history file when a knock came to his door. “Enter!” He called, not bothering to take his steel grey eyes off the papers in front of him.
“Levi~!” Hange called through the open door, their glasses making the bright eyes all the more bigger through the thick lenses. 
“What, four-eyes?”Levi looked irritatedly at his best friend and coroner. “If it isn’t about the case, I don’t want to hear it.” He said as he looked back at the file.
“Oh, don’t worry! It is about the case.” Hange smiled as they walked closer to the oak desk and stood in front of the captain.
“Well, spit it out! What did you find?”
“That’s the thing, I didn’t find anything.” Hange’s smile turned from happy and bright to confused and slightly wicked. 
“What do you mean you didn’t find anything?” Levi raised an eyebrow while waiting for further explanation.
“There was nothing to examine. All the victims' organs were missing! Every last one of them! There were no incision marks either to indicate that he was cut open, nor were there any puncture wounds to suggest he was drugged. Blood reports came back negative for everything we have in the database.” Hange explained, eyes held a certain curiosity for how this could have happened. “I even looked back at files, ones in the computer and hard copies, there was only one other case of a dead body missing there organs that dated back to the early 1920’s. Even then the case went cold.”
Levi was awestruck, there was no indication of foul play but yet, every last organ inside the deceased male was missing. 
Eren continued his work, making tea and fancy coffees for his less than interesting customers. “Eren! It smells like the coffee is burning!” The owner, Miche, Yelled from his office. 
“How the hell can he smell burning coffee from all the way back there? I’m standing right here and I don’t sme- Shit!” Eren ran over to the coffee overflowing and burning away on the burners. “Connie! You were supposed to be watching the fucking coffee!”
“Dude, I said I was going on my smoke break!” Connie grumbled as he made way back into the shop. He helped Eren clean up the coffee and spray some lavender scented febreeze into the air. 
“Eren!” Eren turned his head towards the front of the mostly empty cafe to spot a familiar blonde haired, blue eyed male smiling excitedly from the front counter.
“Armin!” Eren smiled right back and left Connie to finish up the rest of the pastry decorating. The two chatted for a moment before Jean walked up to the counter. “Aug, what are you doing here, Horseface?” Eren sneered at the tall male who wrapped his arm around the blonde.
“Saying hello to my boyfriend and to tell him that I may be a bit late to dinner tonight.” Jean spat back.
“Late to dinner?” Armin asked, looking up at his lover.
“Yeah,” Jean said as he scratched the back of his neck. “There is a new case and I have to go through the computers and phones of the victim. When the captain came by for the reports, I had nothing to give him. There was nothing on the mans shit, nit even fucking porn. So he wants me to do a deep sweep of everything.” He groaned as Armin rubbed his back soothingly.
“It’s okay, Jean. We can reschedule or-” But the blonde was cut off.
“No! I’ll make it! I’ll just be a little late, that’s all. Commander Erwin won’t  make me stay too late.” He smiled reassuringly at the shorter male. Eren gagged at the public display of affection.
“Get a fucking room you two, don’t do that shit in front of me!”
“Jealous, Eren?” Jean smirked at the brunette’s attempt of hiding the jealousy everyone knew he had.
“In your dreams horsefa- Levi!” Eren smiled brightly as the raven hair captain of Trost Town Police Department entered the cozy cafe. Levi smiled tiredly at the green eyes male as he sat down at a booth to the far corner. “Connie! I’m going on my lunch break!” Eren grabbed a fresh pot and recently cleaned tea cup and made his way to the grey eyes man he had his eyes on.
“Aw, Eren’s in love.” Jean cooed at Eren, who in return, turned, glared and flipped the bird to his best friend’s boyfriend. 
“Stop teasing him, Jean! You can be so mean sometimes! You know that since Mikasa turned him down he has had trouble finding someone he liked.” Armin scolded the taller of the two.
“Sorry baby, I’ll try to be nicer from now on.” 
“Thank you.”
“So, Levi, how is work going?” Eren asked as he poured a cup for the stoic man. Levi looked up at him and smiled.
“Eren, I need your help.”
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