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angelofthenight · 3 months

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Kenchanted Pt.2

(Ken x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Swearing, Parental neglect, Unintentional flashing (from Ken), Toxic bf, Cheating accusation

( Super special trigger proofread credits to @detectiveapparatiagreen )

Word Count: 2.9k

Table of Contents

Your childhood was shorter than average. You stopped playing with your Barbie dolls years before everyone in your class, and stopped visiting playgrounds before them too. You had to grow up faster than all the other kids, much faster than what was good for you. You even started dressing more mature and desaturated.

You tied your own shoelaces while everyone still wore velcro. You had to apply your own bandaids while everyone had their parent kiss their “boo boos”. You did your own hair while other girls still had their mothers braiding their hair at the bus stop. You packed your own lunches and made your own meals. You were even the first one in your grade to start saving up money and the first one to hurry getting a job. You learned certain things about the world that the other kids were still shielded from.

But this was all for your own good. It's not that your parents didn’t love you or didn't want you, they just weren’t the best at taking care of you and spent more time arguing with each other and neglecting you than giving you attention and raising you. So you had to raise yourself to the best of your adolescent abilities. And you did it all alone.

You lost all color in your life, even your wardrobe consisted of mostly neutral colors like blacks, whites, grays, browns, and beiges. The light in your eyes had dimmed very early on in your life, as well as the life in your smile. Jokes rarely landed with you and your coworkers basically thought of you as a far-too-serious person with a stick so far up your ass you could see it if you opened your mouth. People often joked behind your back that you were the embodiment of Grumpy Bear.

You witnessed the love your parents had for each other disintegrate over time right before your very own young prepubescent eyes. Your perceptions of love had been completely destroyed and demolished far too early in your life, which sucked even more joy out of your world. That gave you even more reason to stick through life alone.

You didn’t need anybody in your life, at least emotionally. You viewed marriage as a partnership and not a love pact. So you just found someone whose lifestyle suited your own, had a comparable financial status with yours, who you could tolerate, whose future aligned well with yours, and was handsome; a guy named Robert. Sure, maybe he didn’t treat you the best and thought a little too highly of himself, but he met your five ideal relationship essentials.

You were an easily annoyed individual and, for lack of a better word, grouchy so you never really concerned yourself with the idea of ‘fun’. You had far too much responsibility in your life yet the girl who you’ve known since before your childhood died and momentarily lived with would choose fun over responsibility any day of the week.

Every social outing or party or club you went to was because you were dragged along. Although you’d never admit you did end up having fun each time, (R/n) saw right through you which was why she continued to force you out.

And even though you saw the world as it really was, black and white, a blazingly vibrant blob of color still managed to blind your vision last stormy night. And now this mysterious, broke, crazy, ridiculously dressed stranger who claimed to be from “Barbieland” had spent the night on your couch.

But when you found your couch empty, you almost couldn’t resist your sigh of relief that it was all just a dream. You started to walk back to your room to make your bed before you got ready to go to work until you froze in your tracks before you got to pass your closed bathroom.

You heard the shower running, (R/n) never took morning showers as she should already be ready to leave soon for her job. You heard a masculine voice humming a seemingly gibberish song, that was definitely not (R/n).

Your eyes were wide with disbelief at the fact that last night might’ve not been a dream. You knocked on the door with your knuckles, “Hello?” A lively and cheerful response followed, “Come on in!”

You heard the water slow down to a stop before you twisted the door handle and stepped inside. “So, I just-” You cut yourself off in a rapid speed, your breath sucking down your threat, and averted your eyes off of a naked Ken who just barely wrapped a towel around his hips in time. “Oh! Morning, (Y/n)!” He pepped up with an ecstatic grin plastered across his face.

You desperately tried to keep your eyes off him in such a state when water still dripped down his muscular tan chest and perfectly toned abs. “How’d you sleep?” He chirped without a care in the world while he shook the water out of his bleach blond hair.

You massaged your scalp as your eyes were still big, still not willing to accept your reality. “I’m not sure I’ve woken up yet.” You mumbled to yourself. You glanced back over to Ken whose towel was not high enough for your liking as his V was showing more and more. “Can you please fix your towel.” You suddenly barked at him.

Ken simply chuckled at you. “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t have genitals. See?” Ken opened up his towel like a book to show you proof but you had already thrashed your head away with an “Oh my god!”

Ken giggled like a little girl at your reaction, still trying to persuade you to look at his completely flat pelvis but you refused with the belief he was lying. “Put your towel back on!” You exclaimed a little too loud which slightly scared Ken enough to cover himself back up. You peeked over your shoulder with a breath of relief and pink hues threatening to creep up onto your face.

“By the way, your shower is amazing! Like something was actually coming out! It was like the sky!” Ken beamed at you, pointing enthusiastically at your shower. “At first I was not a fan of water because it did not agree with my hair, but then I was just playing around with your bathroom and BOOM water came out of your shower head. I was a little nervous but I put on my brave smolder and jumped in and it was incredible!”

Ken giggled again and stood facing your shower with a look of admiration, his hands on his hips and a fascinated smile on his lips. You fought back your glare over the confusion on how amazed he was by something you found so simple.

“I’m sorry, why were you even in my bathroom?” You questioned snarkily. He turned back to you with a broad shrug. “I was bored! I was going to make you breakfast to say thanks for rescuing me but your kitchen was a little scary looking and I don’t really know how to cook. And it’s been way too long since I’ve last seen my reflection so the bathroom is where I went.”

“Just please next time you want to take a hot shower, crack open a window.” You moodily commented as you rushed over to open up the bathroom window, letting the steamy air escape.

A loud knock had come from the other side of the front door, (R/n) opening it as she was just about to leave for work. However, her face dropped drastically at the sight of her least favorite person.

“Mornin’, sweet-tart.” Rob said with a sour smirk, his feelings mutual with your friend. “Hi, Rob.” (R/n) grumbled with a deep frown and unpleasant eyes. An evil smile grew though as she sized him up. “Looks like somebody skipped leg day.” She told him blatantly.

Rob instantly ditched his fake smile, his eyes forming a glare. “Where’s (Y/n).” He asked, getting straight to the point.

“And lay a towel down because look,” you pointed down to the small puddles on your clean tile floor so Ken could see, “my floor is all wet.” You muttered incoherent complaints under your breath like an uptight mother about how you just washed and scrubbed your bathroom floor as you grabbed a towel to drop on the floor. You began to use your foot to wipe up the puddles with the towel and for some reason, Ken really found that fun.

“Ooo! I wanna help!” He raved, putting his foot on the same towel as you and moving it around in a sloppy manner. “No, Ken!” You exclaimed but it was too delayed as Ken had already jerked the towel to one side making your feet be pulled from right under you, Ken clumsily slipping with you. You fell right through the open doorway, landing painfully on your back with Ken collapsing on top of you, both of you groaning from the impact.

And of course it was just your luck that your vain boyfriend stepped in just in time to see your position with the otherworldly handsome, practically naked, muscular man. You probably would’ve been a blushing mess if you were more focused on Ken on top of you like this; his forearms flat on the ground on both sides of your head, his hefty biceps practically right in your face, his thighs trapping yours, and his chest pressed up against yours.

But the knowledge of how provocative the position was in front of your partner was far too distracting. “Rob?!” You shrieked at the sight of your wide-eyed, fuming boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you on the ground. “What’s up, dude!” Ken greeted casually with an animated grin, slowly rising off of you.

“Who the hell is this?” Rob growled in shock with nostrils flaring, he never would have taken you for that kind of person. You harshly shoved Ken the rest of the way off you to scramble to your feet. “This is nothing!” You desperately tried to explain but Ken had already beat you to your boyfriend, struggling to keep his towel up while raising his hand up to await a guy handshake. “I'm Ken!”

You violently yanked Ken away by the arm, receiving a childish “ow!”. “This is nobody! He was lost and I was trying to help-” Rob cut you off with a snarky bite to his tone and expression. “With finding the shower?”

Ken shoved his way back into the conversation with an overly excited demeanor and energy. “The shower! The shower is amazing, Rob!” Rob glared up at the tan blond with an enraged snarl. “Oh, yeah, I'm sure it was.” He responded sarcastically as he turned to leave with a stomp in his step.

“Wait, Rob! Please calm down so we can talk-” You begged as you trailed after him. “Talk about what, (Y/n)? How you never let me stay the night? But it’s my bad,” he stopped in his tracks to turn to you, shooting you a venomous glare, “I thought this was my sophisticated girlfriend’s place, not a whorehouse.”

You gaped at him in hurt as he turned back around to march out. You still chased after him even through the halls until he escaped through the elevator. You carried yourself back to your apartment with a new kind of exhaustion but mostly anger for a certain blond airhead. You returned back and quickly told (R/n) that you’d see her at dinner to send her on her way to work so that she wouldn’t have to witness you rip that Barbie Boy’s head off.

You stormed through your apartment towards a distinct noise all the way back into the bathroom to find Ken holding up your blow dryer to his hair. He was laughing with a gingerly smile, acting as if he was on a carnival ride as he dried his hair from all directions. He noticed you walk in and quickly told you, “He seems great!” He yelled over the loud sound of the hair tool. “And this thing is amazing!”

Your jaw tightened before you snatched the cord off the outlet, cutting the blow dryer off and causing Ken to frown with a deflated “awww”. “You gotta go.” You stated with a hostile undertone haunting your voice as you began walking away in a heated and intense irritation, pulling out your phone while Ken instantly followed you. “I don't know what your deal is, if you're waiting for your Barbie girlfriend, or whatever. I'll get you to a bus, a train, a plane, wherever, and then that's it! I won’t get any more involved after that.”

The heaviness to your footsteps and the fiery sharpness in your eyes as well as your practically growling voice made Ken’s eyebrows curve upwards. His head faintly tilted at your composure, trying to pinpoint what exactly was going on with you. You were certainly nothing like the cheery and easygoing Barbie women in his life, and he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it… or how to deal with it.

“Are you unhappy?” Ken asked through the thick tensioned air, almost nervous to even speak as if you’d seriously eat him alive like a wild beast.

You pivoted on your feet to face the still nearly naked man. Your lips were shaking as you resisted a snarl. “What?! I'm not unhappy, I'm angry!” You seethed in offense, your voice loud making Ken nearly wince. He was not used to people yelling at him, at all, and yet that seemed to be your favorite thing. “Angry?”

“Yes, angry!” You snapped viciously. “It's an unpleasant emotion. Ever heard of it in Barbieland?” Ken slowly nodded, still a little confused but began to trail off with uncertainty. “I have heard of it, but I-” You cut him off rudely. “You have created a completely unnecessary problem with Rob that I now have to fix! Now he’s convinced that you and I…” Your voice faded, a mix of disgust and embarrassment stealing the rest of your words that you didn’t want to say out loud.

Ken, however, deeply gasped with bulging eyes and hands near his mouth. “Kissed?!”

You blinked at the dumb blond, yet you nodded anyway. “…Yeah, something like that.”

Ken gasped once again. “Oh no!” He lunged forward to grab you by the elbows. “You need to go to him! Go to him and throw rocks at his window under his balcony! Then just scream as loud as you can how much you love him.” His eyes lit up, stars practically spiraling within them as a new idea sprung to his mind. “Or! Or you go to a party he’s at, go straight for the stage, request his favorite song to the DJ, and sing it!”

You rose a disturbed brow. “Sing to him?” He nodded ecstatically, his grin stretched far across his face. “Yes! And maybe perform planned choreography to really let him know!” His excessive excitement deflated to worry as he noticed your unreactive stare. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You tilted your head in the slightest, your evaluating stare never parting from him. “I don't know. It's just… it’s like you escaped from a Disney Channel movie or something.” He frowned, nearly cowering away. “Is that a bad thing?” You pursed your lips together, studying him with a mix of different emotions. “I’m not sure yet.”

He simpered with a sudden burst of life, his perfect pearly white teeth showing and not far from blinding you. “Then I’ll take it as a compliment!”

“If you’re coming with me to work then we need to get you better clothes to blend in.” You explained aloud to Ken who stood beside you as you rummaged through a bin full of (R/n)’s exes clothes labeled as “remains of lost boyfriends”. You pulled out a pair of knee length charcoal cargo shorts and a gray band t-shirt that looked big enough for him.

You rose to your feet to hand them out to Ken. “This looks big enough, here.” Ken smiled amusedly, glancing down at the distasteful top in your hands before returning to your waiting stare. “I'm not wearing that.”

Your teeth clenched and your brows crinkled. “Yes, you are.” Ken shook his head with a dorky, stubborn smile. “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are.” “No, I’m not.”

Your grip tightened on the clothes making your knuckles white. “You’re gonna wear it and you’re gonna like it!” You barked. Ken pouted at your attitude and turned to sit on your bed like a rebellious toddler, crossing his arms. “I will not.” He then shrugged. “I’ll just wear what I wore yesterday.”

Your eyelids peeled back in horror. You would not be seen with him in public when he’s dressed like a funky highlighter from the 1980s. You would much rather walk across legos barefoot.

You angrily scowled down at him as you turned back to the bin with a growling groan. “Fine!” You moodily snatched out a short sleeve pastel pink button up. You threw it at the picky man. “Here! It’s pink! You happy?!”

Ken smiled a satisfied smile, holding it to his chest and nodding to you. “Very.”

#reader insert #ken carson x reader #ken x reader #ken carson #kenergy #Ken #I’m just Ken #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling #greta gerwig barbie #greta gerwig #barbie 2023 #the barbie movie #barbie movie #barbie #fluff #enchanted movie #enchanted #disney enchanted

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aphrodisiac-siren · 1 year

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Ettore X Fem!Reader

Summary: A deadly virus has begun spreading, a disease attacks the brain and causes victims to lose their humanity, rendering them violent and insane creatures. You were chosen, along with a bunch of others, to help find a cure for the same. Along your journey at the organisation, you meet a certain someone who is as daunting as he is captivating.

18+ Minors DNI

AN: I read the interview Claire Denis did in which she spoke about Ettore and based on that, I've written Ettore as this boy who was thrown into the harshness of the world too early. According to her, he had an abusive childhood and spent most of his early teenage years in juvie. From that, it’s a bit obvious why Ettore craves physical intimacy so much because that’s the only time he will feel any sort of physical affection. She also mentioned he does feel the pressure, as a young adult, of never experiencing sexual intimacy. Warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, masturbation.

Masterlist

Part 3

Ettore watched you from where he stood, silently, by the entrance of the large library that was in truth off-limits for him. His gaze never wavered as he watched you fully lost in whatever it was you were reading, your lips slightly parted. He watched as you occasionally mouthed certain sentences, sometimes swiping your tongue over those pretty lips of yours and he wished it was his tongue tasting your lips instead. He continued to stare as your small hands gently turned the pages of the book, nibbling on your bottom lip whenever you had to turn a page.

You weren’t in your white uniform. When you were enjoying your free time off work, which was in the evenings after dinner, you wore your casual attire. He liked the sage green hoodie you wore, a bit oversized but it made you look cute. He couldn’t tell if you were still wearing your signature white trousers since you were sitting down at a table, white as snow. Even the bookshelves were white, and in all honesty, the excessive use of the colour was starting to make him go mad if it wasn’t for you who was sitting amidst the endless sea of white, adding a pop of colour with your green hoodie and your flushed cheeks.

It was taking everything for him to not reach into his trousers and get off while you were right there, before his very eyes, looking as pretty as ever. He would’ve done it if he hadn’t heard footsteps approaching from behind him. He took a few steps away from the glass doors and toward the shelves behind which he could hide. Thankfully, whoever was walking through the hallways didn’t enter the library but just walked past the room. Ettore winced when his back collided with one of the shelves when he was walking backwards and a single book fell off the shelf; the sound snapping you out of your trance.

You looked up, startled. You remembered being the only one in the library and even though you had heard the distant sound of the doors sliding open earlier, no one had entered.

You slammed your book shut, standing up to go and inspect where the sound came from but you were saved the trouble when Ettore gingerly walked out from behind the maze of the bookshelves.

"What are you doing here?" you whisper-yelled as you dashed toward him, dragging him by the sleeve of his black hoodie, and back toward the shelves. You were glad there were no security cams set up in this room "this library is for elites only. How'd you get in?"

He simply raised his hand up, holding an access card in between his index and middle finger, grinning slightly.

"Nicked it off that elite by the med lab earlier this evening, dumb cunt" he chuckled with an undertone of pride, taking a moment to notice that instead of full-length trousers, you were wearing a pair of hot shorts that were barely visible under that big hoodie of yours.

"Shut up" you shushed him when he began to talk louder "you aren’t allowed in here"

You turned around to peek through the spaces in the shelves, just to make sure that it really was just you and him here. If anyone found the two of you together, you both would get into serious trouble- him more than you.

You suddenly felt Ettore's hands on either side of your waist before he dared to slip them under your hoodie to rub slow circles on your hips with the pads of his thumb, his chest now pressing against your back. Your breath hitched in your throat and Ettore felt you shudder.

"Not a fucking sound" he leaned in to whisper into your ear, his lips brushing against the skin right below your jaw "don’t scream"

"Wasn’t going to" you said almost immediately before you turned fully to face him. His hands still lingered on your hips but he seemed to be confused by your reaction.

"You aren’t afraid?" he asked as if he wasn’t expecting you to allow him to be in such close proximity to you. He expected you to push him away, or at the very least, snap at him with an 'Ettore what the fuck?'

In truth, you too were just as surprised by your own reaction. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve smacked the living shit out of someone who dared to slip their hands so casually under your shirt. But Ettore's touch was so gentle and it didn't help that you were already rather captivated by his mysterious nature. You knew you sounded so pathetic but you didn’t care, Ettore was, in his own way a very interesting person who you wanted to know more about.

Not to mention how touch starved you were ever since you started working for W.I.C.K.E.D. Sex was prohibited for both subjects and elites. The only way to relieve oneself was to take care of it themselves within the walls of their room.

"I'm more intrigued than afraid" you whispered to him, letting your hands rest on his chest.

Full of surprises indeed, Ettore thought. This was not at all how he was expecting this conversation to go. Any ideas he had of what he was going to do with you, all vanished the moment you told him you were not at all afraid by him, nor were you trying to escape from his touch. If anything, you seemed to want to be close to him in the same way that he did.

"I've done things, terrible things" he said, as if he wanted you to rethink your words. Deep down, he wanted only to tell you with hopes that you will want him anyway, despite his flaws. That was unlikely though, he thought, no one wanted him when he was perfect, why would anyone take him in when he was imperfect?

"We've all done terrible things" you softly spoke, fiddling with the chords of his hoodie that hung down his chest "some more than others, but no one is truly good-"

"I was in juvie before I came here" he blurted out, though he was sure you knew that much about him; so he proceeded to tell you why "pressed under charges for battery against my step-dad"

This seemed to send a shiver down your spine. You had suspected for him to have some sort of charges pressed, but you were expecting it to be things like theft or vandalism.

"Why" was all you asked, fully expecting him to simply scoff and not give you any further details but to your surprise, that was not what happened.

"He was abusive" he muttered under his breath "the regular thrashing I could endure, but one day he took it too far by hitting me with a wrench. I finally snapped but for some reason, I found myself behind bars instead of it being him"

"And your mum?" you dared to ask.

"She left" he said with a scoff, looking away "she took off and didn’t bother to bring me with her. No, she just left me to fucking die with that abusive bastard she married for the money"

You immediately wrapped your arms around him and rested your cheek against his chest. You felt him turn rigid as you held him in a close embrace, as if he wasn’t expecting this.

He wasn’t.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sounding almost like he was repulsed.

"Hugging you" you mumbled before you pulled away to look at him. He had a look of pure confusion plastered on his face, like you were suddenly speaking in a foreign language "have.. have you never been hugged?"

His cold demeanour faltered, his scorn vanishing as his blue eyes found yours- filled with so much sadness that it made your heart clench.

"Oh Ettore" you sighed sadly as you hugged him again, this time he too melted into it, hesitantly holding you close.

You didn’t want to let go of him, you really didn’t but you knew it would be curfew in a few minutes and you didn’t want to get into any trouble so you pulled away.

"We should head back before we're found" you cleared your throat "we can’t be seen. Subjects and elites-"

"Can’t be friends" Ettore finished with a chuckle though this time, you could swear there was some sort of sadness laced with it "don’t worry Y/N, never said that we were"

He gave you a playful wink before he turned around to leave but you caught his arm.

"I'll need that card you stole" you crossed your arms and Ettore heaved a dramatic sigh as he handed it to you half-heartedly. You watched him with an amused smile before you reached into your pocket to retrieve your lanyard. You unclipped your own access card and handed to him, which he took from you with a raised brow "the other guy will make a fuss about his card being stolen, I won’t. I've got a spare one anyway"

"Is this you inviting me to come to meet you again tomorrow?" he asked cheekily but answered even before you could "I'll see you tomorrow then after dinner, sleep well Y/N"

The next day you were assigned the job of collecting sperm samples.

It was an easy job since you didn’t really have to do anything besides put away the labelled containers of sperm into the acrylic tray that was then taken to the lab.

One by one each one of the male subjects handed you their containers before leaving, there being no further reason for them to stay in the room.

The last person to walk out was Ettore who, much to your surprise, handed you an empty container.

"I think you missed the point of the container," you said smugly "you had to spill your release into this and not into your hand"

"I never came" he bluntly said with a shrug, hopping off the floor to sit on the counter next to you, where you were busy writing the records in your folder "I was having some trouble"

"Some trouble?" you cocked a brow as you repeated his statement.

"With imagining," he said smugly, as always with his gaze fixated on you "it would be a lot easier if I were to receive some help"

You rolled your eyes, thinking he was only fooling around until he caught you by your arm and jerked you toward him. He was strong no doubt, as he easily managed to pull you toward him and in between his legs. He pressed his knees into your sides, entrapping you as his hands came to rest at your sides.

"Ettore wait-" your words got caught up when you felt him lean in and burry his face in the crook of your neck, his nose brushing your skin, leaving you ticklish.

"We've got fourteen minutes before your shift ends" he whispered darkly into your ear as he looked toward the digital wall clock "you can either make this hard for us by protesting or, you can be a darling and make me hard instead"

You let out a breathy sigh when you felt his hands reaching up to shrug the jacket off your shoulders, his bulge pressing against your core.

"Hard already?" you chuckled, trying to sound unfazed even though your heart was pounding in your chest "looks like you’re doing just fine on your own-"

"The way I see it, you can help me get off so that I can give you that sperm sample you need" his hands came to untuck your blouse from your pants "or we can both stay like this for the remaining fourteen minutes until we're caught"

"We-" you took a minute to breathe when you felt him kiss your neck as he starting to unbutton your blouse "we can’t.."

"I know we can’t, Y/N" he said teasingly, parting your now fully unbuttoned shirt and sliding it off your shoulders so that it could join your jacket on the floor. His lips parted as he lustfully eyed you, your top half covered only by your bra that he was quick to discard as well "but that’s what makes it so exiting, don’t you agree?"

Yes.

"No" you said, even though your mind was telling you the exact opposite. Doing something so scandalous, something against the rules was indeed making this whole thing rather exciting. But at the end of the day, you were an elite and you had an image to uphold.

An image that was getting ruined before Ettore's very eyes.

"Lies" he chuckled menacingly as he unzipped his trousers to free his cock. He wrapped his one hand around it, slowly pumping while his other arm firmly held you by the small of your waist. Your eyes involuntarily looked down toward his length and you bit your lip when you saw how big he was.

"You like what you see, Y/N?" he asked as he tugged you closer, his hot mouth latching on to your nipple and you let out a whimper before you slapped you hand over your mouth.

Push him away, a voice in your head screamed.

More, I need more, another begged.

"No" Ettore mumbled as he switched from your left to your right tit "I need to hear you"

His mouth moved expertly against your breasts, his other pumping himself rigorously. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as you moaned his name. You knew this was wrong but the excitement it gave you made your blood rush and your heart race, not to mention the wet spot that began to form in your panties.

"Ettore~" you whimpered, gently nibbling on his earlobe as you tugged his hair, eliciting a growl that made you even wetter. You shamelessly slid your hand into your panties, rubbing your wetness over your clit in slow, circular motions.

"You liking this baby?" he grunted, trying to maintain a steady pace as he watched you pleasure yourself "yea of course you do. That's it, go on touch yourself"

Another moan involuntary escaped your lips.

"Fuck, you’re driving me insane with those pretty noises" he gently bit your nipple that made you gasp "you like when I suck your tits huh? Thought you said we can’t do this? Such a bad girl"

Your mind was blank from the euphoric sensation of Ettore's tongue flicking and swirling around your nipples accompanied by the ecstatic feeling of your fingers playing with your clit which you were imagining as his hand down there. You couldn’t form a single sentence to save your soul but that was okay, he didn’t want you to talk; he only wanted to hear your sweet moans.

"Where’s that fucking container" he grunted against your skin before his hand left your waist to hastily grab it off the counter. He quickly brought it toward his cock before he came undone, his hot liquid spilling into it.

He wiped his hand on his trousers and you immediately scooted back to dress yourself, slightly disappointed that you didn’t get to finish.

"Two minutes still on the clock" he said as he tried to catch his breath. He zipped his pants before he screwed on the lid of the now full container while you buttoned up your blouse again. You didn’t bother tucking it into your pants before you put on your jacket.

Ettore hopped off the counter, walking backward toward the door so that he could face you as he spoke.

"I'll see you later Y/N" he winked "I'm curious to see where this not-a-friendship is leading"

Taglist: @sahvlren @greenowlfactif @tinykryptonitewerewolf @babyblue711 @afro-hispwriter

#ewan mitchell #ettore #ettore x reader #high life #ewan nation #ettore smut

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yanderu-deredere · 7 months

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Hello!! Ive been slowly working my way through your ocs and can i just say!!! They are soooo tasty, your brain is very big, also linking the profiles is soo nice im terrible with remembering stuff so its a nice refresher

Anyway i was just wondering how do you think Ayaka would be with a childhood friend darling 🤔

a/n: SORRY ANON BUT YOU'VE HIT THE JACKPOT this is literally my SPECIAL INTEREST i absolutely DIE AND LOVE THE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE

ayaka yamato ★ profile

being childhood friends with ayaka means getting to know the social media super star before she became popular girl material

before, her hair was pitch black and she also had a lot of acne. like now, she wore thick rimmed glasses but they were always plain black. she also wore a lot of formal clothes, chosen by her nanny. stuff like button ups, long pleated skirts, etc

as a kid, ayaka was basically caged so, to be her childhood friend, your parents had to have been really good friends with her parents

ayaka's parents often scheduled play dates with their good friends' children as a way to gain more social power among the rich

unfortunately, that's really the only way you could've met her before she began her rebellious phase

like frfr ayaka was basically isolated as a child. i cannot stress this enough lol

her little brother was doted on by her mom and her older brother was coddled by her father (since he's the heir) so, often times, she was left to her own devices

she, of course, had nannies and tutors but none of them really truly treated her like the child she actually was

to everyone she met, she was a yamato. and that was the only thing that mattered about her

this made her very hungry for affection and she took whatever she could get

and if you gave her any sort of affection? when she's starving? she'd eat that shit up and praise the ground you walk on LOL

though caveat to that is that you'd have to be in the same boat as her LOL becos she's always been easily jealous, especially back then, and if you were more free than she was, she'd resent you too much to get attached to you

she'd definitely use you as her guinea pig when she starts experimenting with fashion and make up too lmao

when she does go thru her transformation from goody good daughter to how she really wants to live her life, she brings you with her

but she won't let you become a socialite like her. no, you're only allowed to be with her, to be close to her, to be her friend

anytime you start slipping from her grasp, she starts isolating you until the only person you feel comfortable clinging to and depending on is her

"Do you think there's more to life than this?"

You looked up from your homework to see Ayaka staring intently at you, her head resting in her arms. She was pushing around one of the fruit peels that she'd left on the desk but it was obvious from her expression that she'd been serious about her words.

You considered her words for a second before cocking your head a little to the side "What do you mean?"

"I don't know... more to studying. More to being the kid of a CEO. More to all of this." She just huffed in reply before leaning back and crossing her arms "Feels unfair that we live like this."

I don't want you to live like this. She wanted to say but the words just stayed lodged in her throat.

Unfortunately, she didn't inherit a lot from her parents but she did inherit their inability to express affection. The sweetness, the love, always felt awkward and tough on her tongue.

She wanted so desperately to tell you about her feelings, to let you in and let you know, but all she could do was peel you clementines and sit by your side, hoping and praying that you'd notice her.

Certainly, if not her, you found yourself thinking about her words. You'd never really thought about that before. You were always following your parents' rules that it felt blasphemous to consider going beyond them, to see what it was like beyond the rules and the gilded cage.

Because you were aware. You knew the life they had you live--the life Ayaka's parents had her live--was one of imprisonment, doomed to never do what you wanted to do.

But you'd lived the life for so long that imagining what life would be like any other way left you drawing a blank.

"Let's start living life our own way." Ayaka suddenly uncrossed her arms and took your hands into hers, that eager grin on her face infectious "You and me. Nobody cares about me like you do, anyway."

"And nobody cares about you like I do, right?" There was something dark to her tone right then, like there was more to her words. But she looked so mesmerizing, so sweet, that you found yourself nodding.

Ayaka only beamed even brighter "We'll decide how we want to become, not our parents."

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #oc x reader #yandere #female yandere #female oc #drabbles #ayaka

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cecilysass · 1 year

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Tonight We're Gonna Party Like It's 1999

An epilogue to The Boy on the Beach. Read The Boy on the Beach on AO3 or on Tumblr. Read this epilogue on AO3. Tagging @today-in-fic

In the other multiverse.

Baltimore, Maryland February 23, 1983

“Sweetie.” Her mother’s face appeared in the crack of the door. “Do you think you’re almost ready? You’ve made Marcus sit down there with your father and Charlie for twenty minutes now. And our reservation is at seven, so we really can’t be too much longer.”

“Yes,” Dana said. “Almost finished.” In the mirror she peered into her own eyes, which were smudged with black. Her eyeliner was as heavy as she dared for dinner with her family, which truthfully wasn’t very heavy at all.

In Dana’s imagination her entire wardrobe was going to have been transformed in college. She would have been edgier, harder, swathed in black, jagged corners. A semester and a month in, and that hadn’t really happened. Her forays into rebellion had been modest and disappointing. A few band T-shirts, leather bracelets, scarcely noticeable.

Tonight she wore a new dress. Dark detailed lace, a dramatic ruffled neckline. She purchased it at a shop near campus because she thought it had a drastic, punk rock feel. She’d expected a few raised eyebrows when she arrived at her parents’ house tonight. Instead, her mother had smiled and told her she looked lovely. Looking at herself now in the mirror, pale face, dark dress, gold cross at her neck, she realized why. She looked like she could be taking holy vows.

“You know, you’re just sitting there,” her sister observed with amusement. She was lounging on Dana’s bed, already dressed. She had a torn denim jacket, feathery hair, makeup as dark as night. Missy’s forays into rebellion had always been fearless. “You’re not getting ready. You are ready.”

“I’m checking over my make-up.”

“No, you’re stalling. You’re making us late to your own birthday dinner on purpose.”

“What are you talking about?” Dana sighed wearily, examining the jawline of her uninteresting baby face again.

Missy sprung to her feet and leaned over Dana’s shoulder, looking at her reflection in the mirror, whispering playfully in her ear. “You’re waiting for something.”

“Oh yeah? What am I waiting for?”

“You should be ashamed of yourself, with Marcus down there making conversation with Dad,” Missy said. “Boring little Marcus.”

“Marcus isn’t boring.”

“Oh, Dana,” Missy laughed. “You’re such a faker. I see right through you.”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Dana said, rolling her eyes.

“You want to wait around here just in case you get your birthday phone call.”

Dana moved to blot her red lipstick without betraying any real expression.

“From your childhood soulmate,” Missy added knowingly. “Your personal Kennedy.”

“He’s not my childhood soulmate,” Dana said primly. “He’s not a Kennedy.”

“Your dark prince of Massachusetts.”

“He’s not in Massachusetts,” Dana said in a contrary tone. “He’s in college in England.”

Missy folded her arms. “I suppose you haven’t thought about his call at all today.”

Dana sighed again. “Fox does normally call on my birthday, but I’m not exactly sitting around waiting for that.”

“No?”

“Actually, I doubt he will call now—it’s late there. I’m honestly just trying to finish getting ready.”

“Okay.” Missy seemed to be biting back a smile.

Dana pursed her lips and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, but met her sister’s amused eyes in the mirror.

“You make everything so over dramatic, Missy.”

Missy just raised an eyebrow.

“Fox and I shared a strange childhood experience,” Dana said. “We’re friends. Pen pals. He’s an interesting person.”

“Very interesting,” nodded Missy.

“His sister writes to me, too, you know,” Dana pointed out. “And I haven’t seen them in ages. Not even since we moved back to the East Coast.”

Missy reached over Dana’s shoulder and over the vanity table, fishing out the snapshot of Fox on a beach that Dana had discreetly slid underneath her jewelry box. She held it up in front of Dana’s face like it was damning evidence.

Dana kept her expression disinterested. “What? He sent a photo from college.”

“Mmmm, I see that,” Missy said, looking it over. “You’re keeping it pretty close at hand.”

“What’s your point?”

“Look, Dana,” Missy said, sounding exasperated, “he saves you as a kid, he tells you you and he are bound together by fate, he writes you letters, he calls you every year. It’s romantic. You’d have to be made of stone not to see that. I don’t blame you. Nobody in the world would blame you. You don’t have to hide it.”

Dana didn’t say anything, her eyes on the photo in Missy’s fingers. He actually didn’t save her from anything, at least not according to him. According to him, the hero of the story was someone else.

Her. Her, but not her. An unrecognizable version of Dana Scully. Some superhuman, unattainable adult version.

Dana herself doesn’t remember what happened that week in 1973. She only remembers finding herself on a fairy tale beach with two fairy tale children who insisted she had a special destiny and gave her a letter from herself that seemed to confirm it.

The story has always been convoluted, and she’s always been partially sworn to secrecy.

“And holy fucking fuck.” Missy was looking hard at the photo, shaking her head. “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed your little soulmate turned out smoking hot. That’s a nice favor for fate to do for you.”

Dana had noticed, actually. She still hated Missy’s characterization of her relationship with Fox, hated it for so many reasons.

“Enough, Missy.” She reached behind her and snatched the photo out of her sister’s fingers. “Let’s go downstairs now.”

“I could stall them downstairs for a few more minutes,” offered Missy, her tone softer. “I could say I feel sick?”

“Really,” Dana said. “You’re misreading the situation.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.” Dana set her lips in a line.

“Okay,” Missy shrugged.

“Okay.”

“Then let’s go put our game faces on,” Missy said. “Prepare to eat large steaks and avoid talking politics with Bill.” She put her hands on Dana’s shoulders. “You look amazing, by the way. I like your dress.”

“Thank you,” Dana said, her face warming into a small smile in the mirror. “I don’t look like a nun?”

“Maybe a little. Like a hot nun,” Melissa assured her. Dana slapped her hand in jest.

On the way downstairs, the phone didn’t ring. But that was okay. That was fine. She wasn’t waiting for it. Not really.

*** Later, after they arrived back from dinner, after Dana had opened her presents, after they had eaten angel food cake topped with chocolate whipped cream icing and nineteen candles, after she had kissed Marcus a sweet but surprisingly chaste good-bye outside at his car, promising to call him soon (once she was back in her dorm, maybe on the weekend), the phone did ring.

She was standing at the bathroom mirror brushing her teeth, wearing an oversized tee of Bill’s from high school. Everyone else had already gone to bed, although she suspected Charlie was still awake because she could hear the Clash playing faintly from his room.

The phone rang and she froze, her toothbrush in her mouth. Then she flung it down and raced down the stairs as fast as she could, trying to get there before it woke up her parents.

She made it in two and a half rings. “Hello,” she said breathlessly as she picked up the kitchen phone.

“Hello?” It’s funny how familiar his voice was, considering how relatively few times she had actually spoken to him. “Dana…?”

“Yeah,” she said, still breathing hard from her little sprint. “It’s me. Sorry. I just ran from upstairs.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” she smiled, biting her lip. “No, I’m awake.”

“I almost missed it. I’m too late.”

“You’re not late,” she assured him quickly. “It’s still my birthday. But isn’t it the middle of the night there? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

He laughed a little, and she noticed for the first time he was keeping his voice down. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I probably should be.”

Dana pressed her back against the kitchen wall and slowly slid down until she was sitting on the floor. She brought her knees in towards her, hugging them, winding the phone cord around a finger.

“So,” he said. “Dana Scully. Nineteen years old. How does it feel?”

“Much the same.”

“How’s college?”

“It’s…” Dana selected her words carefully, always too aware of what he thought about her. “It’s amazing. I love it. The work is so much more interesting than high school. The conversation is at a higher level.”

“So you just study, all day and night, and that’s Dana Scully’s whole life at University of Maryland?”

“I do take my work seriously,” she said, stiffening. “I know it’s not Oxford, but I take challenging classes.”

“Of course you do,” he said, his tone gentle. “I just meant to ask what you did outside of class.”

“Right,” she said. She knew she was too sensitive. He had never given her any reason to feel so, but she felt self-conscious, her modest, budget-minded state university education versus his elite international schooling. “Well, I have a job working at the library. I, uh, play intramural volleyball.” She swallowed. “I was going to try for a job in a lab for next year.”

“You’re studying science?”

“Yes.” She pressed her eyes closed, anticipating the next line of questioning.

“Do you know your major yet? Is it… do you know what you want to do?”

She knew what he was thinking—because this is what he did, Fox. He asked her a question, and he seemed deeply and intensely interested in her, but he actually was thinking about someone else. This woman, this stranger he and Samantha called Scully: a woman she had never met.

“Not really,” she said.

There was a little pause. “It’s probably too soon to worry about your major. That’s what’s good about American universities—you can explore different fields of study.”

Dana decided to change the subject. “Your sister sent me something for my birthday.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Really. It was wrapped and everything.”

“I’m offended. She didn’t send me anything for my birthday.”

“It arrived in my school mailbox the day before yesterday.” Dana was smiling, wrapping the phone cord around her wrist.

“What was it?”

“A record,” Dana said coyly. “A single. No card or note—besides her name, obviously.”

“A record? You’re kidding me. What record?”

“Prince.”

“Prince?” He paused. “Why would she—” He stopped. “1999, right?”

“Bingo.”

She could hear him laughing on the other end, trying to keep his sound muffled. “Shit. She’s … such a weirdo,” he breathed. “But that’s funny. I wish I had thought of that.”

“As it happens, I like the song.”

“Sam has great taste and a subversive sense of humor, but she’s really baffling my parents,” Fox said. “I think it’s not all sunshine and roses in the Mulder household since I left. We can’t all be well-behaved first children. But only one more semester until she’s off to college, too.”

“Does she want to go to Oxford?”

“She wants to go to Berkeley,” Fox said. “In California.” He hesitated. “According to her, there was something 99 Me and 99 You said about a scientist there who studies neurology, which somehow mysteriously leads to time travel. I hadn’t quite heard all of the details of that before, but Samantha is adamant.”

Dana took that in.

Unlike Fox, Samantha had always been slower to talk about the events of that week in November 1973. Her story had always come out in fragments, little tantalizing mentions that emerge unexpectedly, sometimes years later.

In some ways this was frustrating, as Samantha had the most information. She was the person who met both 99 Dana and 99 Fox, who actually saw them interact with one another. She spent the night in a beach house with both of them. Fox had only met 99 Dana, and Dana met neither of them, unless you counted the letter.

“So what did you do for your birthday?” he asked.

“I went to dinner with my family,” Dana said. She hesitated a half second. “And with my boyfriend, Marcus.”

“This is the same boyfriend? From high school?”

“Yes,” Dana said. “He’s—yes.”

“He goes to your college?”

“No,” she said. “He goes to UVA, but he drove over for dinner.”

“Oh,” Fox said. “That’s nice of him.” He didn’t sound insincere, but he didn’t exactly sound warm either.

“I guess so.”

“You guess so?”

“It was nice. But I think I’m going to break up with him.”

He paused. “Why?”

“I don’t—“ She didn’t know why she was telling him this. “I don’t think about him when I’m not with him.”

“Ah,” he said.

“Does that make sense to you? As a reason to break up with someone?”

“It makes perfect sense to me.”

“It seems like you should think about someone you’re with. Even if you’re not with them at that precise moment. If the relationship is important.”

“I’m not exactly an expert, but I think that’s probably right,” he said.

There was a pause.

“Are you dating someone?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “Not any more. I was, until fairly recently.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was amicable.”

“Tell me about her.”

“She was smart, funny. Her name was Aine. She was—she’s really involved in the anti-nuclear movement here, protesting against Margaret Thatcher.”

“Were you involved with that, too?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Especially while I was dating Aine. She’s very … persuasive. Dedicated.”

“What does she look like?”

There was a pause.

“She’s beautiful.”

Dana found herself fairly certain Aine had red hair.

It was overwhelming, really. She didn’t know what to make of him and his early-minted taste for heroic redheads. She wished Samantha had never mentioned it.

“It feels weird to talk about it with you, Dana,” he said softly. “Even though I know it shouldn’t.”

“Why would it feel weird?”

“You know why.”

Because sixteen years from now she would supposedly be the love of his life. Sixteen years from now she supposedly would love him so much that she would go to some dire lengths to save him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I always seem to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, you don’t,” she replied. “I just sometimes worry … “

“What?”

“That I’m not the person you want me to be.”

“I want you to be yourself.”

“I think you want me to be someone you met when you were a kid.”

“You are Scully,” he said. “You can’t help but be her.”

Another little pause. She cleared her throat.

“I’ve been doing a little research on the camera,” she said. “Do you want a report?”

“Of course I want a report.”

When they left, 99 Dana and 99 Fox had left behind an intriguing artifact from the future: some kind of headset that 99 Dana told Fox and Samantha was a camera, although it no longer seemed to work. Fox and Samantha had spent years tinkering with it, but had sent it to Dana last year at her request.

“I’ve been going to some local technology clubs. Personal computing. Like at Radio Shack.”

“Oh yeah?” He sounded amused. “What’s that like?”

“Well, I’ve had many offers of help,” she said diplomatically. She didn’t want to affect his view of her, but really it was amazing what you could manifest as a college girl walking into a Radio Shack with pigtails, Jordache jeans, and your younger brother’s too-small Atari T-shirt. Offers of help from every direction, really.

“And?”

“You can learn quite a bit there, and I’m getting pretty good at it. I’m thinking of taking a programming class next semester, actually.”

“Computer programming? Wow.” He sounded perplexed.

“The camera is a type of computer, or it has computers in it,” she explained. “It’s beyond what anyone has seen now though. I’ve had a lot of help—some experts willing to look at the camera with me, analyze it closely. Right now it’s probably not working because it’s out of batteries, but its power source is totally different than what we have.”

“Huh,” Fox said. “What if you could get it to work again?”

“I think it’s possible,” she said. “Someone helping me—this man Melvin—he says he knows people in California, in Silicon Valley, who would know more. I was wondering if somehow I could take it out to show them this spring or summer, on one of my breaks.”

“That would be great!” Fox exclaimed. “If it worked, we could take pictures of our own. Messages, maybe.”

“Not right away. Maybe eventually.”

“I wonder where the pictures would go.”

“Back to 99 Dana and 99 Fox’s universe, I suppose,” Dana said. “That’s where her pictures were going, right?”

“Yeah. But it’s been ten years,” Fox said. “It must be 2009 there now, if time moves forward in the same way. I wonder if they even have a way to receive the pictures any more.”

“It could be more time until I can make the camera work,” Dana reminded him. “There’s still a lot to figure out. The power source on this camera, it’s tiny. And the part of the camera that is actually a computer? Fox, it is so impossibly small, like a whole Apple computer shrunk down. It’s fascinating.”

“Do you enjoy it?” he asked. “Trying to figure it out? Solve the puzzle? It sounds like you do.”

The question surprised her, in part because she hadn’t thought of it quite like that. She enjoyed trying to help Fox and Samantha, and she found the computers part much more interesting than she thought she would. But the answer to his question was unexpectedly clear to her.

“Yeah,” she said. “I do. I really like the challenge of it.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “That’s really good.” There was something in his tone that made her worry, like he was comparing her to Scully again, but the conversation took a different turn.

“Dana,” he began, sounding hesitant. “I, uh, got a call. From someone from the F.B.I., asking me if I would be willing to talk to someone in their recruitment office about a possible career in profiling after I graduate, or while I do graduate work in psychology.”

“Oh.” She breathed in. “That’s—“

“It seems like that’s the beginning of … how it’s supposed to happen.”

Dana let that sink in. “Profiling. As in dangerous criminals? Is that what we did in 1999?”

“I never heard the exact area of the F.B.I. we worked in. I know you were a doctor. For me, profiling does make sense, based on what I have been working on in school.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. She had weighed the idea of medical school eventually, but it wasn’t the only thing she considered. Lately, she had thought more seriously about computer science. “Do you think all of this happens no matter what we do? That it’s fated, somehow? That our choices don’t matter?”

“Do you think you wouldn’t choose the F.B.I.?”

“I don’t know,” she said sincerely. “I just think I would like to be able to make the choice.”

A pause on the line. “I guess that’s what I really wanted to talk to you about. I’ve been thinking about that, too.”

“About which part?”

“About whether it has to be set in stone.”

She was faintly surprised. She assumed Fox always wanted to chase after a future that he thought got him as close to what Scully described as he could.

“The call from the F.B.I. isn’t the only call I got,” he explained. She heard him rustling around, like he was shifting position. “I got another offer. Something badly paid and probably not very smart. My friend Miles is an old classmate who’s already graduated and has been working as a counselor in a clinic. He’s in San Francisco, doing grief work and end-of-life counseling with men dying from this new disease, this epidemic. You probably know about it.”

“AIDS,” supplied Dana. “Probably viral. No one knows for sure.”

“Yeah. Whatever it is, it’s a lot of young people dying too fast, often alone, and there’s a huge need for counselors and therapists to help them. Miles says he works sometimes 20 hours a day, but the work is really worthwhile. I was thinking that might be something I could be good at. I’m sometimes good at helping people think through bigger questions.”

“So you’re wondering if you should do that instead.”

“I guess I am,” he said. “I could do it for a while and think about whether I wanted to continue graduate studies in psychology, or go straight into the F.B.I. … or something else. Plus, if Sam is at Berkeley, it’s right there in the Bay Area. I could keep an eye on her.”

Dana was silent for a moment. “It sounds like you already know what choice you want to make.”

He made a stifled half laugh. “Of course I don’t.”

“You sound more excited about the counseling in San Francisco than about the F.B.I.,” she commented.

“That’s true,” he said really softly, like this was a realization. “I am, I guess.”

“But you’re still…?”

“Scared,” he said. “Because if I choose something different, I worry that I…” He stopped. “Well, I worry.”

She didn’t speak either.

“The relationship 99 Dana had with 99 Me—that wasn’t the kind of possibility you could see in your future … and just ignore,” he said. “I can’t see just tossing that away, Dana.”

“Can you explain to me why?” she asked in a small voice.

“I don’t know if I can, except that … here I was, this lonely kid, and the way she talked about us being partners...” He laughed quietly. “I’ll never, ever stop thinking about being her partner.”

“Yeah,” Dana whispered, feeling tears spring in her eyes.

“But I get it,” he said. “I know it might not ever work here, the way it did there. Too many variables have changed.”

“It doesn’t mean you couldn’t be happy in other futures,” Dana pointed out. She twirled the phone cord around her finger idly. “With other people.”

“I guess,” he said. He seemed to let out a long sigh. “You know, right before the holidays, I was in London with Aine.” Dana slumped against the wall a little, closing her eyes, trying to picture what he was saying. “We went out to this club with her friends. They got me all dressed up—that whole New Wave look, you know? Eyeliner and ruffly shirt and all the shit in your hair to make it poufy. It’s not my normal thing, but it was fun. People seemed to like it.”

Dana thought about the photo on her dressing table and imagined it. She thought she could guess why people might have liked it.

“So we’re in this place, and it’s crowded, and there are all these colored lights, strobes, and they’re playing that Duran Duran song, the really popular one. Hungry Like the Wolf. And Aine was talking to me about her Christmas plans, and my eyes just sort of drifted away from her, losing focus into the crowd. All these bodies, dancing. Trying to just connect with one another. Scent and a sound. Juices like wine. Hungry like the wolf. And I thought… why am I here? Why am I doing all of this? Why am I pretending to be looking for someone else, trying to make these futile, fleeting connections, when I already know my perfect other exists?”

There was a pause on the line.

“But…” Dana blinked, stunned. “I’m not your perfect other, Fox.” Her body was rigid; she gripped the phone with white knuckles. “I’m not your perfect anything. I’m just some … girl from Maryland. Some girl who likes to spend most of her time studying and has never even been to a club like you’re talking about.”

“That’s not all you are,” he replied.

“I don’t even know if I really am Scully.”

“You are. I told you. It’s not something you can—”

“No.” She was surprised at how fiercely she spoke. “No, please hear me on this. I need it to be okay with you … if I’m not. I need to be free not to be.”

A tense beat.

“Oh,” he said. “Right, yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“No,” he answered, his voice subdued. “I’m sorry.”

In the hollow silence that followed, Dana’s mind raced. She could practically feel the weight of his disappointment through the phone.

Would this be the end of his interest in her? Would the calls end? What possible appeal could she hold without the promise of a secret agent future? Maybe it would be better to say goodbye, she considered. Maybe this childhood fantasy had gone on long enough. Didn’t it only ever make her feel like she was a lesser Dana? Why did she need that? She could live her own life and never feel that way again.

If it weren’t for Scully’s letter, she might have heeded that impulse.

Instead, she reconsidered. And found herself taking hold of a wild idea, something she could hardly believe she was going to propose.

“Fox,” she said, “maybe you should go to San Francisco and see the clinic for yourself. Before you decide what you want to do.”

“Maybe,” he said, sounding glum.

“Maybe you should come with me when I take the camera to the Bay Area. We could go together.”

It took a moment to sink in. “Together?”

“We must have some overlapping school breaks at some point. We could fly out, investigate the camera together, visit your clinic. You could ask all the questions you need to.”

She again could hear the rustling sounds indicating his squirming. “That’s… an interesting idea.”

“I think it would be a good opportunity for you… to gather information for yourself. Firsthand.”

“Firsthand,” he repeated. “Yeah.”

“You’d probably think of other questions to ask about the camera, too. Things I wouldn’t think of.”

“I’ve never been to San Francisco,” he said. “Maybe we could … walk across the Golden Gate Bridge while we’re there.”

“Okay,” she said. “If there’s time.”

“Or go see a giant redwood.”

“The to-do list grows longer,” she said wryly.

“Or ride a streetcar. Or eat seafood. Or go see that one really crooked street. I always wanted to do that.”

Dana smiled, stretching her legs out in front of her. She couldn’t tell if he was responding entirely seriously or not, but she felt a little giddy that she had summoned enough courage to invite him, to shift the conversation in this direction.

“You know,” he said suddenly and earnestly, “it’d be fun to drive, not fly. I’ve always wanted to drive across the continent. I have this amazing old station wagon that could probably make it. I could pick you up in Maryland.”

“That’s a much longer trip,” she commented, but her face was warming with pleasure. He seemed very serious. “It would be fun though.” She imagined Bill and Maggie’s expressions, watching their daughter climb into a car for a cross country road trip all alone with the strange boy they had met ten years ago on Martha’s Vineyard.

“If we could make it work, matching up the school breaks, would you really consider it? Going with me, I mean? You’re not just saying that?”

And she was struck by the vulnerability in his voice.

“Yes,” she said crisply. “Of course.”

“I’m not as strange as I come across in these phone calls,” he promised. “If we went, you could get to know me better.” A little intake of breath. “Just me. Nothing else. No expectations of anyone being anyone else, like you said.”

She was so used to thinking of him as her mysterious fairy tale boy, someone who dropped into her life simply to check to see if she had grown into someone she was not. It surprised her to realize he was anxious for her approval, too. That he was worried about how she viewed him.

“Sure,” she managed. “And you know, I’ve always wanted to tour Stanford, too.”

“Then it’s settled,” he said. “Let’s make it happen.”

“Do you have a calendar of your school schedule?”

“I’ll go get one,” he said.

She listened as the phone dropped and he made thumping noises to run off, presumably to his room. He sounded so… eager. Dana smiled to herself, wondering what it would be like to drive in a car with him across the country. If he would drive her crazy with his peculiar energy. If he would insist on driving off the interstate on little side trips. If he would make them camp or stay at cheap motels. She found herself insatiably curious.

*** They stayed up too late hammering out a rough plan before finally saying good-bye, and Dana padded speedily back up the stairs to her bedroom, her heart still thumping, her mind still buzzing.

She flew straight into her closet and yanked the drawstring to turn on the overhead bulb. Her eyes ran over the shelves, looking for what she wanted, until she spotted it: the old cracked leather box. She lifted it from the shelf and took it to her bed to examine.

Inside the leather box were letters, filed carefully in reverse date order starting from 1982, last year, going back to 1973. Fox and Samantha’s handwriting alternated, the penmanship getting increasingly rounder and younger as she flipped farther back in time.

She found what she was looking for. The very first letter, which wasn’t from Fox or Samantha. It was preserved in its original envelope.

Dana. said the lettering on the front.

The handwriting was adult and female. She now could see what was not apparent to her as a nine-year old—that it was, in fact, her own handwriting. Or at least that it looked enough like her handwriting at age nineteen to be recognizable.

Dana sat cross-legged on her bed and read the letter for the thousandth time: the letter that had changed her life, the letter that continued to change it.

Dear Dana,

I have never been in a situation like yours, but I imagine you’re very scared. As strange as this may sound, the person writing this is you, Dana Scully, age 35. I traveled from the year 1999 back to your year. When I arrived, you vanished. Now that I have left again, you’ve returned, and you are ready to begin to live your life again. I’m truly sorry that I had to disrupt your life in this way.

I will try to limit this letter only to what is most important. First, it’s not a good idea to believe anything a stranger tells you, so I’ll try to give you some proof we are the same person, and tell you something only you know: In Mass sometimes, you daydream that Father Joplin will one day leave the priesthood and marry you instead. I hope that is enough to convince you. I’ve never told that to anyone. He never will, I’m afraid.

Second, your family has missed you very much, and they have been very worried. Be kind to them once you see them again. Especially Melissa. Always be close to Melissa.

Third, the two children you are with—Fox and Samantha—will act like they know you because they know me, but you won’t know them. Listen to them. They can explain the full story of what happened to you. They will be able to give you most of the answers you want. I imagine they may seem like strange children. But you can trust them, always, especially the boy.

Finally, about the boy, Fox Mulder. I know him as a man very well, but I don’t know what it would be like to know him as young or for as long as you will. If I had to predict, he will be persistent in keeping in touch with you.

His friendship can be difficult at times, but it’s also been something powerful and hard to explain, something big and overwhelming and wonderful. I suppose my advice about Fox Mulder comes down to this: when it comes to him, don’t ever lose sight of yourself. But in the end, he is worth it. He is always worth it.

Yours, Dana Scully

#x files fanfic #the x files #xfiles fanfic #boy on the beach

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serialkirah · 24 days

Text

i'd like to tell a story that not a lot of people in my life know about

it's about how the anti-trans movement and a family business ruined my relationship with my grandparents.

so, i'll start at the beginning, and i'll try to make it brief, but it's all kind of important.

my grandfather started a business when i was born, in 1997. it took quite a few years until it took off. it was a lot of hard work. i won't say exactly what it is, because then this post loses it's anonymous touch, but it's a farm that sells something unique (not weed, ok).

when i was growing up, i begged my grandfather to work there. i wanted to make money, and i wanted to spend the summers at my grandparent's house. they finally let me work there when i was 12.

back then, i was a little girl in a workplace dominated by men. there were porn calendars in the lunch room, even. i fell behind a lot, as most of the men working there were tanks, but i liked doing my part as there were really only four of us back then. i worked every summer.

i liked spending time with my grandparents. my grandfather even back when i was a kid always had white hair - the stress of running this farm sucked all the pigment out of his hair. he has a dark skinned tone, a gruff look about him, and he's fairly short (as the rest of his family, myself included). he's the type of guy who loves being outdoors; clearing the land, hunting, fishing, tapping maples, landscaping - that kind of thing.

my grandmother has always had dark brown hair, and even now looks fairly young for a grandmother. she keeps her hair shoulder length, usually tucked into a ponytail, wears the same black tshirt and capri pants or blue jeans almost everyday, and she's always been into interior design, decorating, flower arrangement, crafting and gardening.

i loved doing things together with them. i could be outside all day burning grass with my grandfather, then spend the evening painting furniture with my grandmother.

my manager at the farm was my uncle, my grandparents son. he was my favourite person, and he was such a great boss. he was this tall, big guy who always wore a leather vest, black t-shirt, and ripped cut off blue jeans and these huge black boots. he was a metalhead, so intelligent, and effortlessly funny and charming. i grew up without my dad in my life, and at some points during my childhood, my mom and him lived in the same building and shared a car, so he's always been someone i was close to. in 2007, he had a baby, and at some point, since my baby cousin and i were always together, i had begun calling him "dad" - i even called my own mom "auntie" a lot! not all the time, just when i talked to my cousin. he's sort of a sibling, more than a cousin.

as the years went by, my uncle relied on me even more. i became his assistant and began helping him with the business side of the farm. my grandfather sat me down when i was about 16 and asked if i'd like to take over the farm. his son didn't want to take it over, and i seemed competent and interested. i decided to go to college for this very niche industry, and to do that i had to go away to the only college in my country which had a program dedicated to it.

the year i left for college, my uncle died from a heart attack. my whole family was devastated, my cousin was left without a father, and my grandparents never really got over it. he was their golden boy, the guy they relied on to run the complicated side of their business, and it took a toll on their personal lives as well as their business. my grandparents took custody of my cousin.

it was difficult to overcome the deep depression i experienced after his death, and i even neglected my studies that year. it was like losing a parent to me. if it wasn't for the friends i made in college, i probably would have had a much harder time. but i obtained a graduate certificate in 2019, in the end.

around this time, i also came out to my grandparents as transgender. i was starting my transition from female to male, and i wanted them to be aware it was happening. i've been out to them since 2017, and to my other friends and immediate family i've been out since 2014. they took it like the average grandparent would, confused and uneducated, but they managed to swallow their opinions and accepted that it was going to happen. it did involve me striking for a few months, but they eventually needed my help when the pandemic started, and they asked me to come back to the farm. i assumed the position of manager. i moved into company housing, just down the road from work, and began working full time.

it was a difficult adjustment to become assistant manager to a manager that had passed away and didn't leave instructions. even though i had gone to school for this specific industry, i hadn't gone to school for business administration, so i was essentially taking over business duties with no training. i had to teach myself a lot, or learn from other colleagues. my grandfather was a knowledgeable man in business and farming practices, for sure, but when it came to technology, accounting, traceability, compliance, human resources, auditing, inventory, resource management; he needed help. even though i became his right hand man during this time, running the business alone for a few years took a severe toll on his health and in the beginning of 2020, he was diagnosed with cancer.

he had to take an extended break while he was receiving treatment. and i was there to take over his duties. even before he took a break, i was doing everything from audit prep to inventory tracking, environmental data collection to representing the company at conferences, media appearances to health and safety training, guided tours to project management. now, i was also in charge of all daily operations, scheduling, communication, and a team of eleven people. on top of that, i joined a board of directors for an association related to my farm. the very business that turned my grandfather's hair white in just a few short years was now turning my own hair white at 23.

that's all to say - i think i was doing very well. my coworkers and i got along very well, and everything always moved smoothly. but enough was never enough for my grandparents, and i was constantly berated for everything i did.

i think the stress of losing their son with the addition of the cancer diagnosis caused a negative change in my grandparents. over the course of three years, the same people who i loved spending every summer with became aggressive, argumentative, sarcastic, mean-spirited. i started spending more time at my own place rather than eating supper with them almost every night. i skipped afternoon coffee and long talks with my grandmother, because i couldn't stand listening to her increasingly manic religious rants about how nobody has morals these days, they just do whatever they want. i stopped talking about anything other than work with my grandfather, because he started becoming increasingly aggressive and indignant whenever he wasn't caught up on daily activities at the farm, and especially so when i had everything handled correctly. he was able to overcome his cancer, and was declared cancer free. he decided to rebuild his house, so he still took time off, but would still come to the farm to get angry about this or that.

i was becoming so stressed that i would call my mother every other day to seek advice. i started to wonder if my grandfather was ever going to retire and let me run the business without his constant surveillance and micromanaging. i was so stressed that i started psychotherapy to attempt to balance both my emotions and career.

then, i fell in love with the girl that worked at my local coffee shop. i had asked her to hang out as friends at first, but she was the one who kissed me first. we began dating in january of 2023, and she changed everything. she was there to help me understand that getting screamed at everyday for unimportant things wasn't normal. that working 7 days a week for three years with no days off wasn't healthy. that forbidding me to take time off to see my friends, do anything fun, or even spend my free time making art was incredibly fucked up.

finally, in the spring of 2023, my grandfather dropped a bomb on me one day. i had mentioned to him that i was doing really well with the mutual aid program i created for trans youth, and how i'm working with a lgbt youth group in town, and like a man possessed, he began spouting off about transgender people. yeah, i just don't like those transgender people. those men are always cheating by winning women's sports. and they beat women up did you know that? if women don't let them into the bathroom they beat those women up. they go in there and rape women and kids.

i was shell shocked by this outburst. i had never heard this opinion from him, and it was as if he had this whole rant locked and loaded, ready to spring up when given the opportunity. where did this come from? i asked. it's all over the news, i've seen videos on youtube, it's all true. there was no convincing him. even when i tried to appeal to common sense, or share an empathetic viewpoint. but you know, i'm transgender. obviously, not all trans people are the same. i don't do any of those things, and of all the trans people i know, none of them do that either. i think what you're watching is propaganda. but he insisted that this was real life, and ended up walking away grumbling about it.

i cried to my girlfriend that night. i was reaching a limit that i couldn't exceed. she held me and suggested that maybe i should walk away. i should save up my money, and i could go back to school, and i could do something i enjoyed. i was comforted, i agreed, and i began to plan my escape.

not even two weeks later, my grandfather burst into my office again, and asked, what's all this he/they shit? at first, i was a bit confused about what he meant, but then i realized, ah, you mean my personal pronouns that i use?

he looked so angry, and he had this crazed, unrecognizable look in his eyes - the type of look he would give to people who hurt his family. it terrified me. yeah, whatever, it's in your emails, take that shit off of there, it doesn't belong in business emails. i could feel my anger rising, and my throat felt tight, but i still managed to say it's my email signature, so that when people call me or address me, it's the way i want them to, just like my first name. it's not a big deal, everyone does it. you don't have to have one with your email signature, but i include mine because it's important for communication.

i don't give a shit. you're a she, your name is -----, you do that on your own time, but you need to be professional. take it off your emails. i stared back, shocked and honestly frightened. i could say yes, i'll take my pronouns off my emails, then i could apologize and continue working there. but something in myself would die.

no, i said.

no? he repeated.

no, and this conversation is over. i closed my laptop and brushed past him. he sputtered and screamed at me to take it off my emails, but i ignored him and went home.

i discussed it with my therapist, my girlfriend, my mother, and my sister. i decided to suggest therapy to them. three days later, i sat both my grandparents and my mother down. we were outside, sitting on a patio set facing each other.

i tried to talk about what happened, and after hearing the way they ranted about transgender people, how they were bad people, how they were sinning, how they didn't want pronouns in their business, how i was ruining their business by doing so, how i was using them in order to gain more support for my mutual aid that helps trans youth, and how i'm not respecting them, i suggested family therapy. they rejected the idea, and became even more indignant.

i stressed that forbidding me to use my proper pronouns and my correct name (which was a legal name), was against the law, and they said they didn't give a shit about the law. what are you going to do, sue your own grandparents? my grandmother scoffed at me. no, but if i was anybody else that you were doing this to, they could sue you, and they would win. at this, she got up from her seat and began ranting about how disrespectful i was being to my grandparents. she grabbed my wrist and yanked me around while she yelled, and raised her hand to smack me.

now, i want to pause here and explain something. obviously, this is an extreme reaction. it's also a common reaction from my grandparents during arguments. i know some may baulk at the idea of your grandparents or parents using corporal punishment, but it was a common thing, and sadly, it is part of a larger issue - intergenerational trauma caused by residential schools. i don't think i've mentioned it yet, but my family and i are native.

much of my family grew up in the residential school system, a schooling system ran by the catholic church and the canadian government for indigenous children. this system was mandatory, and parents who tried to hide their children were punished by the law. it's main purpose was cultural genocide, and the nuns and priests that ran the school physically, sexually and emotionally abused native children. many kids died from experimentation, neglect, malnutrition, unsuitable living spaces and were also murdered. the rate of death at these schools were so high that they had cemeteries on site, and many children were buried in unmarked graves. in that environment, my great grandparents survived those schools with many wounds, and had their own children sent to these schools. this is also where my grandparents went to school. they didn't need to send their own children there as they moved away to the city in the late 70s. but even some of my mother's friends had gone to residential school. in that regard, my grandparents have been deeply damaged by the system and by their upbringing. they're emotionally stunted, they resort to screaming instead of communicating, and their last resort is to lash out, sometimes physically. it's not right, by any means, but i just want you to understand that there is more under the surface.

back to my grandmother. she's ready to strike me, she's got my wrist, and i've just had enough of this. the way they've responded so far is beyond unreasonable, and any call to common sense is lost on them.

i slowly slackened my arm away from her personal space and into mine, opened my palms in a relaxed way, and pulled them behind my head softly until she let go, then put my hands in my lap and softened my face, and said, hey, let's stay in our seats. she knew that i was attempting to de-escalate the situation, felt insulted, and lashed out verbally instead. she jabbed a finger in my direction and spat, you trans people are all the same.

with that last sentence in mind, i turned to my mother, who had sat silently in tears the entire time. i don't think this is going to work, i said to her.

then why don't you quit! my grandmother yelled from her seat.

my grandfather said, fine, _____ either you do what i told you to do or quit.

i turned to my grandfather. so as your manager, if i don't let you break the law and violate the conditions of your 3rd party certification, i have to quit?

my grandmother's voice was hoarse, and she was repeatedly screaming in the background, so they don't you quit! why don't you quit! quit then! we don't need you!

i maintained eye contact with my grandfather. are those your feelings as well? not just her feelings?

he was struggling to look at me. that's the way i feel, too.

i stared at him for a few seconds while my grandmother continued to scream and rant. finally, i said, okay. this is my two week notice. but you only have two weeks to change your mind - after that, i'm gone.

i wish i could say that he thought long and hard over the next two weeks, and decided that he had been too much. i wish they decided to reel in their opinions for the greater good of their relationship with their family. but their business (and their religious views i suppose) was ultimately more important to them. in two weeks, i set up another manager with all my tasks - properly, the way i should have been - and left.

my grandfather urged me to move out of the company housing within those two weeks in not so many words. my grandmother suggested i move far away, and told me not to tell anyone what happened. it was seconded by my mother, who believed telling everyone would be unprofessional. i was scared and uncertain, i decided to lie to everyone and tell them i quit because i wanted to go back to school, or to change my career. i had to move in with my mother, two hours away from my girlfriend, and i had to sell my truck to afford my car payments. it was very difficult to overcome the rift in confidence the whole thing caused me, but eventually with the help of therapy, my girlfriend and my family, i slowly gained that confidence back.

now, i'm slowly opening up to more people about what happened. eventually, i will tell everyone, but not as a way to bring my grandparents down. i don't want to be like them in that way. i want to tell people when i feel okay again, when i feel confident, and when i have more stability in my life again.

i've been able to move into a house that i rent with my girlfriend, my sister, and my sister's boyfriend. we're creating a fun and colourful space to live in, a place where we feel good. my sister is going back to school and my girlfriend and i are looking into it too. after a long break, i'm also resuming activities with my mutual aid program. i've also joined the board of directors at my city's pride activity planning non-profit organization. lots of exciting stuff.

i'm going to be 27 in about a month. i spent 14 years working for my grandfather, and although somedays it feels like a huge waste of time, i still have a bunch of skills that i otherwise wouldn't have ever learned. i only wish it translated to a better paying job in the city, haha.

when i think about what my grandmother said, you trans people are all the same, it doesn't fill me with as much hurt as it did that day. cuz now i think about all the wonderful trans people i've met in my life and i think to myself - yeah, that's okay. if trans people are all the same, let me have the same kindness, the same humility, the same bravery, and the same forgiveness. because at the end of the day, i value those things far more than i would ever value money or ego.

i hope this story wasn't too boring. i know i'm just one of thousands, maybe millions of trans people that go through the same stuff everyday. but i appreciate being listened to, so thank you. if you want to be friends, follow me! i'm trying to use tumblr more often.

see ya! :]

#transgender #trans joy #trans #lgbt #2slgbtqia+

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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

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And and and silverfox!Bucky bring silverfox!Steve (or somebody else) on the next night out with his girl's friends. And Reader arrives later after a bad date but it's okay because Bucky's friend is ready to change her world!! 😍😍😍

Just an idea, because you already have so much amazing stories. 🥰🥰🥰

Wine and art night! Don’t forget! — sweet girl

The text laid heavily on your mind even after you had slipped the phone back into your bag and hitched the strap over your shoulder. After the last girls night that Bucky had crashed, your friend and his girlfriend had ecstatically called you in hopes that you’d be interested in meeting his friend.

His best friend since childhood. His best friend who, like Bucky, was a breathtaking Silverfox. Steve Rogers was his name, and like Bucky, he had silver streaks and the benefit of being an older man with charm and charisma.

He was a man, like Bucky, who could have made you weak. And Bucky’s girlfriend, sweet girl as he stated, had the idea that you two would be perfect for each other.

“I’m meeting a friend, actually a group of friends-“ your ticket stub has been ripped off and you were granted access to the wine and art show that another of your friends had decided upon for girls night.

Next girls night was supposed to your choice, if you could make it through tonight.

“His name is Steve, he’s such a sweet guy and I really think you’re going to hit it off.” You recalled her telling you all about this guy, this Silverfox man who was eager to meet you in exchange.

The leagues of bad dates and awkward moments between the boys you had usually seen were getting old and tiring. The string of dates had in turn made you hesitant to go out at all, even with the promise that there were men out there for you.

“Keep calm,” you mumbled to yourself, “if you can corral a bunch of five and six year olds, you can handle this.”

You hesitated to approach your group of friends to give yourself a moment to breathe and gather yourself. You had hung out on the edge of the area and tapped your nails against the body of your bag, while studying the girls and two men.

You knew Bucky right away, you could see him standing near sweet girl being so enveloped in her. His hands were on her, his lips trailed and traced her earlobe while she laughed softly.

And then you saw Steve Rogers, the man sweet girl promised you would be good for. The man who was best friends with Bucky Barnes from childhood, was standing less than ten feet from you.

He looked gorgeous, even from a side view. The soft strands had been slicked back in an effortless coif that drew your attention to his strong jaw and the slope of his nose. You had studied him from where you stood, fixated on the strands of silver that had been woven throughout his beard and his hair, stirred desire and want that you didn’t even realize you’d had.

He was tall and broad, clearly able to overshadow you with his height and his size. You could make out the definition of his thick biceps through the dark green dress shirt he wore that had been tucked into his dress pants. The narrowing of his waist was emphasized by the black belt he had wove through the belt loops of his pants.

He looked suave and put together, immaculately breathtaking as any man could have been. And you were rightfully stunned.

It had only been after a waiter had come to offer you a glass of wine that you had moved. You’d taken the wine glass offered to you and sipped on the sweet white while making your way toward your group ready to introduce yourself.

You were a foot away from them, within touching distance of the group when he had turned and cast his eyes upon you. And as his gaze settled upon you, his blue-green eyes had left you feeling stunned and breathless.

“Y/N,” his husky voice delivered a series of pleasant shivers down your spine, and the way he stepped away from the group to stand before you heightened your heart rate, “its nice to meet you.”

“You’re so tall.” Your thoughts became vocalized, and you blinked slowly when you looked up at him, both mesmerized by his gaze and stunned by his height.

“Tallest boy in all my classes.” His hand settled on your waist and you wondered what he was doing, when you got your answer by a soft nudge as a waiter passed you.

“I’d offer you a drink but you’ve got one.” He had retained his hand on your waist and searched your face while you stood stunned by his attractiveness and his sheer size.

“I’m not the biggest fan of white wine, but its all the waiter had.” You could feel both Bucky and sweet girls eyes on you, as they grew more excited by your connection.

“Time to be honest,” Steve’s soft chuckle made you whimper unwittingly, and he had smiled charmingly to the tune, “I ordered you red cause sweet girl-“

“I like red wine.” You had seemingly no control over your voice, over your ability to keep yourself in check. “Better than white anyway.”

“Why don’t I-” Steve gently took the glass from your hands and reached behind himself to grab the glass of red. “-trade you?”

“I mean…I already drank from it.” You told him after the fact and preened, again, when he laughed softly. “I’m sure that being a kindergarten teacher means you’ve got your cootie shot.”

“Circle, circle…dot, dot…” you spoke quietly, anxious and nervous despite sweet girl appearing as if she was going to burst.

Steve, the gorgeous older man had looked at you as if you were the epitome of sunshine and beauty all wrapped into one. It was a little overwhelming being looked at with such strong attraction and affection room.

You understood how sweet girl felt when Bucky looked at her.

“Steve and-“ sweet girl started to speak, only to be interrupted by Steve.

“-lady bug.” He affirmed the name to you with the soft brush of his fingers down your arm. “Cute as a bug.”

“You think I’m cute?” You inhaled sharply, your heart thrashing wild.

“More than cute but I don’t want to come on too strong.” Steve’s husky laugh rang in your ears and you were delighted by the sound.

“Hey punk,” Bucky leaned over and nudged Steve with his elbow, “now would be a good time to ask her to look around with you.”

“Thanks, Buck.” Steve grimaced slightly. “Do you-“

“Yes.” You answered quick and enthusiastically. “I would like that.”

“Take good care of her.”

“Shut up, Buck.”

#Silverfox!Steve Rogers x reader (ladybug)#Silverfox!Steve Rogers x ladybug #Silverfox Steve Rogers #silver fox Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers & ladybug #Steve rogers and ladybug

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ok-boomerang · 1 year

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Can I get your thoughts on this post claiming Mai and Toph are very similar (and that Zuko clicked with Toph immediately because she reminded him of Mai)? https://at.tumblr.com/i-was-talking-to-momo/everyone-else-took-a-really-long-time-to/nyh2nz26iuay

Toph and Mai are similar? That’s a hard no from me. And besides, the reason Toph and Zuko get along so well is because Toph and Zuko are so similar.

I can kinda see the post’s first argument, that Toph and Mai are similar in that they both lived sheltered childhoods and their parents didn’t understand them or allow them to be themselves. But that’s…where the similarities end. And these are also pretty superficial parallels, based on a character’s circumstances instead of their development. And since we’re talking about a story, character development matters most.

The reason that Toph and Mai are so unalike is that Toph is a fully developed main character with an arc, while Mai is just…not. That’s not even an anti-Mai argument, it’s more of a critique of the story. Mai had the potential to be an interesting character, but she’s really just a stereotype of a gloomy goth girl (intentionally juxtaposed with the peppy pink-wearing girl) and the attempt in "The Beach" to add depth to her character sort of falls flat because all we get is “I’m like this because of my parents” and nothing about how she might want to change.

Toph, however, changes a LOT throughout the series. She sometimes literally puts up walls to protect herself, but very quickly learns that she can rely on her friends and that it’s okay to need people sometimes. She has heart-to-heart conversations and recognizes when she's made a mistake (see "The Runaway"). Mai does not learn similar lessons.

Toph puts on a tough-girl image but deep down she cares deeply for her friends and even decides she wants to connect with her parents. Mai does neither of these things. Sure, Mai stuck her neck out to save Zuko, but only after she yelled at him for breaking up with her because he was trying to save the world and after she refused to reconsider Fire Nation supremacy. She’s not actually interested in Zuko as a person, and so I would argue that her love for him is actually pretty shallow. (Note: I do not think Mai’s rescue is solid proof of selfless love. A person can make a lot of sacrifices for someone and still treat them like shit. Just ask my mom!)

So why do Toph and Zuko get along so well? It’s not because Toph and Mai are alike—in fact, Zuko pretty consistently does not get along with Mai. It’s made rather clear in the narrative that Zuko and Mai’s relationship in the Fire Nation is supposed to show that Zuko got everything he could have wanted but it was still all wrong. Some examples just off the top of my head: Mai not asking Zuko “for his life story,” Mai refusing Zuko’s gift, Mai thinking ordering servants around is fun, Mai and Zuko fundamentally misunderstanding each other at pretty much every possible moment, lol.

But Toph and Zuko both had to shed the masks they wore and embrace the person they truly were. It sounds cheesy because Toph and Zuko have to learn to embrace the cheese. (Sokka, Katara, and Aang’s developmental arcs are very different from Toph’s and Zuko’s arcs—they're already big on cheese.) Mai, as a sadly underdeveloped character, never embraces the cheese. The best example I can think of is Mai and Zuko bonding over hating the world in early S3. But that’s just the thing. Zuko doesn’t hate the world, and accepting that is what jumpstarts his ultimate redemption.

Toph and Zuko also share superficial parallels—both from rich families, both the black sheep (seems important to point out that Mai is not a black sheep btw. That’s kinda her whole thing in “The Beach”). And Toph, of course, wasn’t around when Zuko was chasing the Gaang. That might seem like a minor plot point, but it’s pretty important! All she knows is there’s a firebender there to teach Aang and that he’s earnest and trustworthy. (That he has daddy issues like her is just a bonus!) Sokka, Katara, and Aang have history with Zuko that’s hard to forget, AND they can’t tell when people are lying like Toph can. Toph has every reason to want to befriend Zuko, while the rest of the gaang’s reluctance makes sense.

Finally, another reason I think Toph and Zuko clicked—Zuko is good with kids. Remember how he taught Lee how to fight with broadswords instead of scolding him? Remember how Zuko carefully praised Aang during firebending lessons? There’s a reason the fandom has Dadko.

Thanks for the ask! This was fun to think about, and I really did try to consider how Mai and Toph might be similar. But I just don’t think you can really compare a flat character with a well-developed one. Toph is much more than her “tough girl exterior.” But Mai’s apathy isn’t even truly a strength.

#atla #atla meta #zuko #mai #toph #anti maiko #anon ask

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sucker-for-yanderes · 4 months

Text

Kirishima Knows Best

youtube

Yan!Kirishima x Childhood Friend Reader

Contains: Overprotective Kiri, manipulation, sexual harassment, and violence.

The (h/c) haired girl giggled and waved goodbye to the green haired boy who had just left as he went to go get them some ice cream." Don't take too long!" She smiled and then let out a soft sigh. A light blush painted her cheeks but soon vanished once she heard a familiar voice.

"Found you~" It was none other than Kirishima. He was standing in the alleyway and stepped out into the light on the sidewalk where (Name) stood as Izuku was on the other side of the street." Oh, hey, Kirishima!" (Name) cheered."Wow~ You sure look nice." Kirishima eyed (Name) up and down in her attire. She wore jean shorts with a white tank top and a black jacket over her top. Kirishima wondered who she was trying to impress by wearing such nice clothing." Can you tell me what you're doing out here?" Kirishima kept his same smile on his face as he walked towards her, however he was quite annoyed. Irritated, at that." W-well, Midoriya invited me to hang out with him and I never really get to go out of the house, so..." (Name) drifted off as she read the situation.

She knew she was in trouble. After all, she wasn't supposed to be out of the house. She'd been in Kirishima's care ever since she ran away from home." Come on, let's go back home." Kirishima sighed and took (Name)'s hand but was shocked when she resisted." W-wait." She muttered. Kirishima turned around slowly to face her. There was a sparkle in her eyes. A sparkle he didn't like." I can't leave. I'm hanging out with-" "Midoriya. I know. But still, let's ditch this weirdo~" Kirishima's tone started out as serious but soon he became fun and bubbly again." N-no, I can't! That would be mean." (Name) puffed her cheeks as she pulled her hand back." You don't understand, I haven't had this much fun in a long time, Kirishima." (Name) pleaded with him." Awe, and you don't have fun with me? I'm hurt. Truly, truly hurt." Kirishima sighed and shook his head." Come on, I'm serious." (Name) huffed." Okay, then explain." Kirishima crossed his arms as he looked down at his darling." Hanging out with Midoriya has been so fun, I even think he.. likes me." (Name) looked off to the side as her cheeks became painted pink and that same sparkle formed in her eyes. No wonder Kirishima didn't like it. Because that sparkle in her eyes wasn't because of him. It was because of someone else. And not just anyone. Izuku Midoriya. That quirkless nerd?

Kirishima's smile slowly turned into a frown. She was about to fall for him and Kirishima had to come up with a plan quickly." Likes you? Come on, now, that's demented." Kirishima snickered, causing (Name) to raise a brow. Just what was Kirishima talking about?" But Kirishima, I-" " This is why you never should have left." Kirishima sighed and brought his hand to his face." You do know why you're supposed to stay at home, right?" Kirishima walked behind (Name) and ran his fingers through her hair." It's to keep you safe from the outside world, my dear~" His hot breath on her ear sent shivers down her spine." This whole romance you've invented between you and... Midoriya... just proves you're too naive to be out here." Kirishima placed his hands on (Name)'s shoulders as he rest his head over hers." Listen, don't be a dummy. Come with me. I know what's best for you. No one is going to treat you the way that I do, not even Izuku Midoriya." Kirishima cooed and (Name) pressed her lips together wondering if she should take what he says with a grain of salt or not." But I'm not a little kid anymore, I can take care of myself, don't you think?" (Name) whined. Her words resulted in cackles from Kirishima." Oh my gosh, you're too adorable~ But no, you can't. Let me explain it to you again. You're quirkless. Meaning you have no means to defend yourself. And, not to be sexist or anything, but you are just a girl. You've lived with me your whole life so I know exactly what you're capable of and what you're not capable of. I'm pretty observant, you know." Kirishima explained. You wanted to argue back but you knew he was right. After all, you two had lived together since you were young." But if you really think you're capable of handling yourself out there, then why don't you go on ahead? Prove me I'm wrong. Go head and trust Midoriya and see how dead wrong you are." Kirishima implored her in a low tone." I-I will! I'll prove you wrong." (Name) grit her teeth together and backed away from Kirishima." Then go on ahead. I'm not stopping you. Do what you want to do." Kirishima smiled brightly and then began returning to the darkness of the alleyway." Jerk..." (Name) mumbled as she sighed." Hey! (Name)! I'm back." Izuku waved as he crossed the street running with their ice cream cones." Oh, hey. T-thank you." (Name) smiled." What's wrong? Is everything okay?" Izuku looked down towards you, concerned." Hm? Yeah, of course. Why?" (Name) queried." Well, you just looked out of it. I was worried that vanilla wasn't your favorite." Izuku joked." No, I'm fine, silly." (Name) giggled and then took Izuku by the hand." Come on, now. Let's get out of here." The two smiled and enjoyed their fun for a little longer.

But that soon would come to an end.

(Name) was cornered by two other men." Come on, babe, have some fun with us." One of them snickered. These two boys were delinquent students at UA High School. Sero and Kaminari. It must have been bad luck that (Name) had come across them tonight. And just where the hell was Midoriya? He was going out to buy them movie tickets and he still hadn't returned. Kaminari grabbed her by the arm while Sero had grabbed her other arm." Come on, what do you say?" Kaminari smirked along with Sero." P-Please, I don't want any trouble." (Name) shuddered in fear." Awe, did you hear that? Says she doesn't want any trouble!" Kaminari cackled along with Sero." That's hilarious. I mean, seriously, what can she possibly do?" Sero smiled as he looked her up and down. This was sick. It made (Name) feel gross. Disgusted.

!!!

" (Name)! (Name)! Are you alright?" Kirishima had come to save the day. Kaminari and Sero were on the pavement, beaten up. (Name) was curled up by the wall, trembling." K-Kirishima...? What are you doing here?" (Name) asked as she wiped away the tears that had formed in her eyes." Well, fortunately, I just so happened to be passing through the area on my work study. But more importantly, are you okay? They didn't do anything to you right? Because if they did, I'll make them pay-" (Name) wasted no time in embracing Kirishima." I'm so glad you came for me." (Name) cried into his shoulder and he pat her on her back." I'll always be here to protect you. That's a promise." Kirishima reassured the trembling girl." Where the hell was Midoriya? I thought you two were together today but I didn't see him protecting you from those big bullies." Kirishima smiled. He knew what he was doing." Well, he went to go buy us some movie tickets but he just left I think. Maybe he thought I was too weird or something..." (Name) looked off to the side and cried some more." Oh? But I thought you said that he liked you." Kirishima asked." Well, I guess I was wrong! And... you were right. I should have just listened to you. Besides, you've always taken good care of me..." (Name) muttered as she rested her head on Kirishima's shoulder.

A twisted smile creeped onto Kirishima's face." I know, sweetheart, I know. Let's go home now, yeah?" Kirishima's voice was soothing, calming (Name) down." Yeah, that sounds nice." A sweet smile and soft blush appeared on her face. Oh, how adorable she looked." Here, hop on. I'll carry you home." Kirishima bent down, waiting for (Name) to get on his back." B-But I'm too old for piggy back rides. Plus I'd probably be too heavy for you." (Name) blushed in embarrassment." Nonsense! I've always carried you on my back and you've always been super light. Now, hop on." Kirishima reassured her and she did." See? Piece of cake." Kirishima smiled as he began walking. (Name) buried her face into his back, embarrassed." K-Kirishima..." (Name) started." What is it~" Kirishima cooed." I'm sorry for all of the things I said back there. I was probably being a burden to you. I should have just listened to you and we wouldn't have been in that mess." (Name) frowned, tears stinging her big (e/c) eyes once again." Let's not worry about it, okay? How about we agree to never do that again?" Kirishima suggested." Yeah, I won't do it again ever, I swear." (Name) sighed." Okay~" Kirishima smiled." K-Kirishima, you can put me down, now. I can walk by myself." (Name)'s face became flushed with embarrassment as the two earned looks from other people." Huh? Why would I do that?" Kirishima smiled at the girl." Because people are staring. It's embarrassing!" (Name) complained in a whiny tone." Who cares?" Kirishima chuckled, earning him a glare from (Name)." Here, I'll tell you what; you stay on my back until we get home and I promise I'll order us some ice cream. Sound good?" Kirishima inquired. All (Name) needed to hear was ice cream and she was in on it.

The bribe proved to be a success. Kirishima kept the same smile on his face all the way home. He finally convinced (Name) to stay at home, by his side, never to leave. After all, Kirishima knows best. He's the only one who will be able to keep her safe from the world and treat her right. He loves her more than anyone. He is the only one who will be able to make her happy.

Kirishima. Knows. Best.

#xreader #yandere #slight angst #mha #bnha #yandere bnha #tangled #Youtube

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littleoanh · 2 years

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AGGHHHHH!!! My favorite series It Started With a Smile ended!! Fridays will never be the same. I really really love your writing. Its so addicting I cant stop reading. You’re really doing a good job at this. I’m sad thet the series is over (i will miss Ran series from you) but I trust that you wont get get tired writing about Ran. I’m not much into reading but you made me get addicted to your works Albie!!!

You might be getting a lot of requests but if you have time can you grant my request for below scenario abour Ran?

- Y/N (Fem Reader) had been busy doing art abroad. Since she’s done with her exhibit, it’s time to go back home to recharge and get new inspo for her next project! She also wanted to go home in time for her bestie’s bday. The celebration is in a club owned by Bonten. Y/N went to the club even though she hated it and only wear basic clothes (white top and black trousers and sneaks). She met her bestie but since she doesn’t know her other friends that well, she stayed at the bar to wait. Then suddenly, a bouncer asked her to go to the vip room (as instructed by Ran). She turned to the room and told the bouncer to tell the vip that she aint a wore and to go fuck himself haha! Turned out Ran was a childhood friend of her bestie’s boyfriend and introduced them in the party then Ran mentioned to Y/N that he knows she aint whore 😆 Ran was turned on by Y/N IDGAF attitude so he digged his friends to provide info about her. But her friends seem to be protected telling Ran to play with anyone but her (you can create a mystery about Y/N like a past experience that hurt her, death of someone important). Lucky Ran, he accidentally ran into you buying paint brushes in this art district where Bonten have businesses. Ask you out for lunch then everything started there. Keeps visiting you on studio and eventually finding out about Y/N’s soft side and sad past. Making Ran be soft for her and falling in love with her! I am in my late 20s so please make it smut smut but in a romantic way 🥰

Gosh im thinking about scenarios like these while reading your series. Albie, you are such an effective writer!!! Hope you’ll expand the request mentioned and please dont stop writing!! Will be here always reading and supporting you!!

- Lory (im anon coz im a little shy but im always here to support you!)

A/N: Hi Lory!! Thank you so much for reading my first mini series <3. That really means a lot to me. And you are absolutely right, I will never be tired of writing for my beloved Ran Haitani!!! And WOW that’s such a thoughtful compliment, thank you! I really appreciate the love and support! And don’t worry about being an Anon, I completely understand about feeling shy. I’m a total introvert. ANYWAYS! I really hope you enjoy this piece :) Sorry, I really got carried away and didn't realize how long this was …

Because I Have You

Characters: Ran Haitani x fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff (lots of kisses, Ran being a sweetheart [but not at first] and cuddles), angst (talks of a character’s death, emotional trauma, anxiety), cursing, and smut (unprotected sex, mention about pubic hair, Ran calling reader ‘baby girl’, oral, and creampie).

Like, reblogging, and kind comments are appreciated.

“Oh my God, [Y/n]! You made it!!!” Your bestie, Shinzu screams over the loud upbeat EDM music playing in the background of a popular club in Tokyo. She jumps over to give you a big bear hug, you haven’t seen each other in a long time due to your work trip abroad. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She talks in your ear with contentment while still holding you in her arms.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss your birthday.” You smile softly, you landed in Tokyo about an hour ago and dropped off your luggage back at your minimalistic apartment. Then headed right to the club without changing your clothes, you weren’t a party person and didn’t have clubwear. You came here wearing a white boyfriend button up with the sleeves rolled up, black trousers and your favorite Converse sneakers.

“Hey, good to see you [Y/n]!” Tora, Shinzu’s boyfriend, comes to greet you with a bear hug too and pulls the both of you into his strong muscular arms. “How’s your art exhibit in Paris?” He lets go of you but still has his arm around Shinzu.

“Good, it was very busy and fuckin exhausting but totally worth it.” Your lazy smirk appears on your tired expression. “Feels good to be home though.” You turn your attention to the bartender and order shots for the three of you.

“Staying here for a while, I hope?” Shinzu smiles brightly, hoping you won’t go on another long international trip. The bartender pours liquor into three shot glasses.

“That’s my plan,” You hand two shot glasses to both of them. “I need to recharge and prepare for my next expo. But enough about me!” You lift your shot glass in the air, “Let’s take fuckin shots! To Shinzu for being born today!!”

“Kanpai!” The three of you clink your shot glasses and chug, your chest feels burned from the alcohol and return the shot glasses on the bar counter.

“Shinzu!!!” A group of loud squealing girls approach the bar area, surrounding Shinzu and grabbing a hold of her.

“Come on, why are you taking so long?”

“Let’s get on the dance floor!”

“Forget the dance floor, let’s get on the poles!” They are practically dragging Shinzu away from you, but she manages to use her heels to stop them from hauling her and looks back at you.

“[Y/n], do you wanna come with us?” The girls are staring at you, waiting for your answer.

“No, you guys go ahead. I’m good here.” You motion them to go on without you, the truth is you are not comfortable with Shinzu’s other friends since you don’t know them that well. The girls drag her away and Tora sighs.

“I’m going to follow them in case they cause trouble,” He looks back at you, “You sure you’re good here?” You give him a thumbs up.

“Don’t worry about me.” Tora nods then follows the girls behind, you turn back to the bartender and order yourself a beer. The bartender pops the cap and hands you a nice cold beer. You instantly take a gulp of it, the dance floor is crowded and so many girls are grinding on guys or on their girlfriends. This scene is completely out of place for you, you much rather have a quiet night in but Shinzu likes to party. You lean back against the bar counter, wondering how long you should stay here for.

“Miss.” You are not certain if the ‘miss’ is for you but your eyes flicker in the direction of a big scary man, most likely a bouncer. Holy shit he’s huge, he is staring right at you. “Can you please follow me to the VIP room?”

“Are you talking to me?” You point at yourself, why would the bouncer want you to follow him to a VIP room?

“Yes, you have been invited by one of our VIPs.”

The fuck … is this some kind of joke?

The bouncer shows you the direction up at the balcony where the VIP rooms are located. You follow where he is aiming, there is someone standing by the balcony. There are flashing lights near them, giving you a glimpse of who this person is. From what you can tell, it is a tall man wearing a striped purple pantsuit. He possibly has multicolored hair, too dimmed for you to tell. He is not alone, there are women with revealing dresses clinging onto him. Maybe he is bored of them because he is focused on you, but what pisses you off is that cocky grin on his face. Does he think you’re easy?

Tch who the hell does he think he is, you scowl. You turn back to the bouncer looking unimpressed.

“Go tell your VIP I’m not a whore and for him to go fuck himself.” The bouncer who is stoic at first is bewildered by your response. You take another chug of your beer, now ignoring the bouncer.

Hm? Ran’s lavender eyes spots the bouncer coming back to the VIP room alone, why are you not with him? “Mr. Haitani.” The bouncer appears to be hesitant.

“Where is she?” Ran gets to the point, Rin and Sanzu snickers when you don't show up.

“She um … she wants me to give you a message.” One of Ran’s eyebrows arched, oh?

“What does she want to tell me?” Ran’s iconic lazy grin appears, did you want to meet him somewhere else? Were you too shy to come up here? He could tell from the moment you were at the bar that this was not your scene. You are even bold enough to come to Bonten’s most popular club wearing a white big shirt and pants. You are different and he is completely intrigued by you.

“Pardon me for saying this, here is her message.” The bouncer clears his throat to help with his nerves, “She said ‘I’m not a whore and for you to go fuck yourself.’” Rin and Sanzu are howling in laughter while Ran is speechless. He had never been rejected by a woman before, they would always do what he instructed. This is actually a nice change of pace and is turned on by your IDGAF attitude. He stands up, taking off his tie with a smirk.

“Where are you going?” Rin asks his brother, who is now leaving the room. Ran stops his movements, to turn back to him.

“Going down to meet with an old friend of ours.”

Your eyes catch Shinzu and her friends returning to the bar area, you also notice Tora coming back laughing with someone. “[Y/n]! Come here and meet Tora’s friend.” Shinzu waves you over, you sigh and are reluctant to meet someone new. However, if it’s Tora’s friend … how bad can he be?

“[Y/n],” Tora’s big hand pulls you closer to them and his hand is also on his friend’s shoulder, “this is Ran Haitani, my childhood friend. He is also one of the owners of this club, so basically a VIP.” One of your eyebrows instantly perk up and get a closer look at him.

“Mother fucker …” You mutter, it’s the same cocky VIP who was standing at the balcony. Ran showed off his charming smile and wave.

“Nice to meet you, [Y/n].” Ran’s tall stature comes closer to you and leans down in your personal space. He sees the look of annoyance, his charming smile changes to a devilish one. “For the record, I know you’re not a whore.”

“What, you think I need your validation or something Mr. VIP?” Your angry smile spur Ran even more. Why do you look so fuckin hot when you’re mad? “Also, get out of my fucking face. Don’t need your cockiness up in my personal space.” You push Ran’s broad chest to back the fuck up.

“Uhhh, is something goin on here?” Tora looks back and forth between the both of you.

“It’s non-existent.” You want to nip this in the bud, you whip your head back to your bestie who is also concerned about what is happening. “Shinzu, I’m going to head out. I had a long flight and my jet lag is about to knock me out.” She nods.

“Oh of course, I wasn’t expecting you to stay long. Do you want me to come out and wait with you?” Before you can answer, Ran jumps in.

“I can drive you home.”

“How about you jump in your own ass and fuck off?” Shinzu’s friends are astonished at how badly you are treating Ran. He is being a gentleman, offering you a ride home and you chose to be rude. You didn’t care what they think, you are now focusing on Shinzu again, “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to wait with me. Go enjoy yourself. I’ll give you your birthday present later.”

“Oh okay, at least let me walk you to the door.” She follows you right out, Ran’s lavender eyes follow the both of you out of the club. He needs to know more about you. Tora put his hand on Ran’s shoulder, breaking his thoughts.

“Hey, don’t take what she says to heart. She’s really a sweet person.” Ran’s lips quiver upwards.

“Is she? Could you tell me more about her?” Tora knows where this is going and needs to put his foot down.

“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking but you can’t be interested in her.” Ran is surprised Tora is cockblocking him. “There are plenty of girls here for you to be playing with, just not [Y/n]. She’s off limits.”

“Off limits?” Ran chuckles darkly, “You should know better who you are talking to.” He comes closer to Tora with an intimidating stance, “I take what I want. So either you tell me more about her, or I will use my methods. Your choice.”

“No.” Tora knows Ran well enough that he will not hurt him. “I’m asking you as my brother, leave [Y/n] alone.” Ran frowns, then steps away from Tora and sighs in defeat.

“Alright, fine. I’ll leave her alone.” Tora pats Ran’s shoulder and smiles softly.

“Thanks, brother.”

It has been a few weeks since Ran last saw you at the club, he continues to keep his promise with Tora to leave you alone. He really did his best to forget about you, but how could he? You have plagued his mind. You are completely different from the women he’s been with. A fresh breath of air. He is bored of the same type of women. The only way he can temporarily forget about you is to keep himself busy with work.

Ran is at the Art District in Shibuya, Bonten owns several businesses here and he needs to collect payment. At the last stop, Ran happens to notice an art supply store across the street. His lavender eyes are shaken, he finds a familiar face … yours. You are wearing a white crop top with short dark blue overalls and white sneakers. He couldn’t help but to smile, you are adorable no matter what you wear. What should he do? Should he come say hello? Maybe come into the store and buy those paint brushes in your small hands?

He is distracted by his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice you have already stepped out of the art supply store. I know I shouldn’t but … his long legs take off running. Ran can’t help himself, he needs to see you again. “[Y/n]!” He touches your shoulder to grab your attention, you on the other hand are about ready to deck him in the face but stop when you see him.

“You, again?” You lower your fist, which Ran finds amusing. You are definitely unique. “What are you doing here?”

“Got some business to attend to.” Ran is happy you are at least talking to him, maybe this can start something new. “Then I happened to see you and wanted to say hi.” He displays his famous charming smile.

“Could’ve kept walking …” You mumble, then look back at him. “Is that all?”

“Have lunch with me.” Your eyes widen, why would he want to have lunch with you when you have been so cold towards him? Is he some kind of masochist? Right when you are about to reject his offer, your stomach starts growling … traitor, you called your stomach.

“Fine, but you’re paying.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Ran is elated you agreed to have lunch with him, he can finally start to get to know you.

“You’re a painter, right?” Ran asks at a casual sushi restaurant that serves sushi on a conveyor belt. You arch one eyebrow, then he nods at your bag. “You have paint brushes, I assume you’re a painter.”

“You’re right, Sherlock. I am a painter.” You pick up a salmon roll and plop it in your mouth.

“What kind of paintings do you do?”

“Landscapes.” You answer curtly, however it doesn’t seem to bother Ran. He genuinely is content that you are at least answering his questions. Your eyes flicker in his direction, he seems enthralled. “My style is impressionist landscape either with acrylic or oil painting.”

“That’s fascinating, I am terrible with art. How did you get into art?” You have a sorrowful gaze when you pick up an eel roll.

“A family member inspired me.” He sensed you didn’t want to talk about it and didn’t want to put pressure on you.

“Have you done any art exhibits?” Ran changes the subject to make you feel more comfortable with him.

“I came back from Paris about three weeks ago and now I am working on another expo.” He places his arm on the table and his hand is under his chin.

“Oooh, am I invited to this one?” You arch one of your eyebrows again.

“You’re interested in art?”

“I’m interested in whatever you make.” Ran gives you a cutesy smile, you almost want to roll your eyes but he does look cute when he smiles like that. You also never realized how pretty his lavender eyes are. Actually now you have a better look at him, he’s quite handsome. His tattoo on his neck is quite … sexy. Your eyes trail from his tattoo to his large hand, then you look back up to his eyes again and he definitely notices you are checking him out. “Thinking of painting a portrait of me, darling?” Ran playfully winks, you turn away to hide your redden cheeks.

“As if I want to.” You mumble. The rest of lunch went pleasantly and you didn’t find Ran intolerant as much anymore. You are becoming a little intrigued by him. JUST A LITTLE.

“You’re back here again?” Ran has been frequently visiting your art studio nearly every single day. It was a bit annoying at first, but now you are looking forward to his visits. He always comes with a lunch box for you since the first time he came, you missed lunch because you were too focused on your painting.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss visiting my favorite little paintbrush.” Ran holds up a brown bag with pack lunches for the both of you. You wash the splatter paints off your hands and take a seat with Ran.

“You missed a spot.” Ran tells you, you look down on your hands to check but you don’t see any paint on you, he chuckles. “On your face.” He points to the spot.

“Oh.” You grab a paper towel to wipe where Ran mentions but he grabs your wrist to stop.

“A paper towel will be too rough on your skin, let me.” He wipes your cheek, “Gosh, you have another spot here and here.” He continues to wipe your face, however you feel your cheeks feel wet. That’s when you catch on his fingertips, there are paints on them.

“You asshole! You’re making a mess on my face!” Ran laughs as you tackle him down while grabbing some paint of your own and start painting on his face. “Since you are being devilish,” You paint his face with little devil horns and a funny moustache, “I’ll paint you as the devil.” Ran doesn’t even fight you, he enjoys watching you paint on him. “There!” You just realize you are on top of him and leaning close to his face. Right when you are about to get off of him, Ran holds you in place and uses his strength to pull you closer to his lips. His hand is in your loose ponytail, playfully tugging them.

His lavender eyes are filled with a fiery passion, he’s been wanting to kiss you this whole time. Now he has you in his arms, he doesn’t want to let go. Ran leans in but is interrupted by a phone call. “Shit.” He reluctantly releases you and sees a call from Kakucho, something must have happened with the mission. “Sorry, I have to go. Work call.”

“Uh, before you go.” You quickly climb off of him with your heart beating expeditiously. You wet a paper towel for him to use to wipe his face. “Here.”

“Thanks. See you later.” Ran walks out of your painting studio.

“See you …”

Later that night, Ran comes back to check if you are still at your painting studio. He still sees the lights on, so he decides to come in. When he opens the door, he hears you talking in panic but why are you getting worked up? He takes a peak to see you are talking to Shinzu, Tora’s girlfriend.

“I can’t have feelings for him,” Your eyes are brimming with tears, “not after Yuki’s death.” Who’s Yuki, Ran questions himself.

“[Y/n], Yuki would want you to move on.” Shinzu tries to calm you down with a soothing tone, “It’s been five years, you deserve to live your life and be happy.”

“Happy?” The word sounds bitter in your mouth, “It was my fault he died!” Your tears are now dripping on your face.

“That wasn’t your fault!”

“I couldn’t hold onto him!” You are visibly shaking, admitting this out loud. “I couldn’t … I was too weak and my hand … let go. I still have nightmares about it … I can’t even look at his last unfinished painting without feeling haunted by him.” Ran’s chest softens when he sees you crying into your small hands. Shinzu walks over to give you a comforting hug.

“I know I can’t understand losing a twin,” Ran’s heart plummets, so it was your brother? He can’t imagine the pain you are feeling, “but I know Yuki doesn’t want you to be plagued by his death. You need closure to move on. Finish his painting. Finish what he started.”

“I-I can’t.” Your anxiety and guilt is eating you up. “I can’t do it. I’m not brave enough to face him.”

“Then let’s face him together.” Ran steps into view, startling the both of you. “I will be right by your side.”

“What the hell, Ran?!” Your face scrunched up in anger, “Were you listening this whole time?!”

“Yes and I’m not sorry that I did.” Ran approaches you and Shinzu. “If you are scared, then take my hand.” He extends his hand out for you to take it. “I’ll be your anchor. Your rock. Every time you are feeling anxious, I’ll be right here with you. I promise, I won’t leave by your side. If you fall, I will pick you right back up.” Your eyes are shaken, feeling hesitant to take his hand.

“Take his hand, [Y/n].” Shinzu encourages you, she sees how much Ran cares for you. You look at Ran’s downturned eyes, they’re that passionate again. His steady arm, waiting for you to take his hand. He’s not going to give up on you. You slowly reach out for him and he does not hesitate to take your hand, pulling you into him.

“I won’t let go. Not until you’re done.”

Ran kept his word, he stood by you while holding your hand and watched you work on your twin brother’s painting. Every time he felt like you were feeling overwhelmed or anxious, he whispered encouraging and sincere words. After a while, he senses your determination to finish your brother’s work. You needed both of your hands to do the texturing and Ran still remained by your side. Your bravery and willful attitude made Ran fall for you.

“It’s … complete.” This painting took the whole night into the morning without any rest. Ran stares at the finished canvas. This is a painting of a couple hugging under a sakura tree, the sakura tree is textured making it look 3D. The male looks similar to you, Ran guesses that is your twin brother and the female must have been his significant other. You painted the landscape beautifully, it looked as though it’s from a fairy tale.

“It’s beautiful.” Ran compliments your work, “I’m sure your brother would be happy you finished his work.”

“...Yeah.” The painting may be completed but there is still one more person you need to face.

Ran stands beside you while you nervously ring the doorbell, it takes a few minutes before someone opens up the door. He recognizes the woman, she is the girl in your painting. She is surprised to see you after five years, you apologized for your absence and told her you had a gift for her. You hand her the present, containing the painting. She unwraps your gift, the moment she sees the painting, she bursts into tears. She pulls you into a hug, telling you thank you and you hug her back with tears. Still apologizing for your brother’s death. She tells you that she never once blamed you and wishes you all the happiness. The burden you had on your shoulders has now lifted.

You have woken up from your nap, feeling more refreshed compared to the last 5 years. You turn your head to find Ran sleeping peacefully next to you. Because you have him, you are able to move on. You lean close to him and place a gentle kiss on his cheek, when you pull away his arm snakes around you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His lavender eyes are gradually opening, meeting your content gaze. “It’s a crime to kiss me when I’m not awake.” Your lips quirk upwards.

“How would you know that happened if you weren’t awake?” Ran prop his other arm up to have a good view of you. Your bedhead looks like a bird’s nest but he still finds you pretty.

“Touche, but-” His arm that is around you pulls you closer to him, “I want you to kiss me when I’m more awake. Such as right now.” A playful grin spread on his lips and you are a bit flustered.

“I can’t do it if-” Ran slant his lips against yours, his lips feels good on yours. It’s been so long since you have kissed someone. You kiss him back without feeling guilty, he deepens the kiss and uses his tongue to swipe across your bottom lip. You grant him access to let him play with your tongue. The way his tongue dances with yours makes you feel good and turns you on.

Ran rolls you on your back and he climbs on top of you, placing loving kisses from your lips down to your neck. Licking, sucking, and biting your plush skin, earning some sultry moans from you. His hands lift up your shirt to gain access to your tits, giving them some squeezes and plays with your nipples. He strategically rolls your nipples with his skillful fingers, making you twitch from his touch. Ran moves his lips down to your abdomen, coming closer to your nether region.

“Wai-wait.” You stop him before he proceeds to take off your pants. “It’s been awhile since … I … um.” Your cheeks are now blushing, it’s so cute how shy you are. “You don’t need to-” Ran kisses your lips once again to interrupt you.

“Let me take care of you, baby girl.” He gently takes off your pants along with your white cotton panties. You close your legs in embarrassment, but of course he’s not going to let you stay like that for long. Ran spread your legs, lowering himself down and looks are your glistening cunt. You have some hairs but not enough to deter Ran from eating you. He opens your pussy lips, takes one long stride of your lips and moans. You are fuckin delicious.

Ran messily eats your pussy, you hear him slurping and so many lewd wet sounds but you feel too good to care how embarrassing it sounds. He laps your clit and sticks two fingers in your hole. As you mention, it has been awhile so your pussy is extremely tight. He sucks on your clit, making you shake and scream from pleasure. Your walls pulsate around his fingers, letting him know you have cummed. Ran sits back up, unbuttoning his pants and releasing his thick cock and sucking on the fingers that were in your pussy.

He leans down, putting a little weight on you, “I’m going to need you to listen to me.” Ran talks roguishly in your ear, “I want you to take a deep breath for me.” You listen, taking a deep breath, “Now exhale through your pretty lips.” The moment you exhale, you feel something big plunging in your pussy and nearly taking your breath away.

“Fuckkk …”

“You’re doing so well, baby girl. Just a bit more.” Ran slowly pushes his thick cock into you, making you feel every inch and vein. He finally bottoms out, waiting for you to adjust his size. You feel so full with him so deep inside you. Ran starts thrusting in a slow pace, you whimper and make cute moans for him. He kisses you with more heat and gradually increases his rhythm. You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning into his lips and enjoying the pleasure. He thrusts even deeper, making you hug him tighter in your arms and crying into his neck. Ran wraps you close to him and keeps hitting your g-spot.

“Oh god, yes! Ran!” You cry out his name, Ran grunts and groans into your ear. You cup Ran’s face for him to look into your feverish eyes, “Please … please go faster and harder.” How can he say no to you? He gives you another sloppy kiss before granting your plea. “Oh Ran!” You are calling his name like a prayer and he ravishes you. “I’m about to cum, I’m about to cum.” Ran keeps the fast pace and goes harder to have you cum on his angry cock. You let out a pornographic moan and arching your back. “Ran, Ran!” He captures your lips, feeling your gummy walls squeezing him.

“Feel so good, baby girl.” He continues to pump his cock into you, letting you enjoy your high. He keeps going until he is getting close to ejaculating. “Where do you want me to cum?”

“In-inside, please. I want to feel your love.”

“Fuck, [Y/n]. Let me show you how much I love you.” Ran continues to slam his cock, about to bust and he let out a loud guttural groan. He paints your gummy walls white, creating his own artform. He waits for a few minutes before taking his cock out, thick cum is spilling out of his pussy. It is stunning. He lays down next to you, pulling you into his arms and tenderly kissing you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m more than okay, better than before.” You look up with a loving gaze, “Thank you. I … wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” Ran smile softly, then place your head against his neck for you to nuzzle into.

“I promise you, didn’t I?” Ran huskily talks while stroking your disarray hair, “I won’t leave your side.”

��Does … does it still apply since … now I’m done with my brother’s painting?” There is a moment of silence, you have a slight panic that Ran will up and leave you.

“[Y/n] …” You are almost scared to look at him but you need to face your anxiety, you make eye contact, “if it’s alright with you, I want to stay here with you.”

“You do?” Your voice cracks a little.

“Yeah,” Ran caresses your cheek, “I’m not planning on leaving even if you push me away. I will always be here.”

“Ran …” You wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss him with longing. Who knew you would find someone at a club that would change your life?

[End]

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naminethewriter · 5 months

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One's Hometown, One's New Home

Chapter Seven: Learning About Each Other

Masterpost | First | Previous | Ao3

@tss-anxceit-week

Summary: Janus’ hometown is a usually quiet place where everyone knows everyone. So when someone new moves in, they’re usually the hottest topic of local gossip. The newcomer then comes by the library Janus works at, he can’t help but chat with him a little. Doesn’t hurt that he’s good looking as well.

Content Warnings: None, just fluff 💛💜

~~*~~

Janus smiled as he saw Virgil enter the diner. It was their first date. After they kissed, they both agreed that it was too early for them to commit to a relationship, but they wanted to give dating a try. Thankfully, Virgil’s leg was fully healed only two days later, so they agreed on having dinner together that Friday.

“Hello,” Janus greeted as Virgil closed the distance. “You look dashing today.”

The other flushed.

“I didn’t really do anything different.”

“Really now? So you didn’t pay extra attention to your make-up, ironed your shirt and wore a pair of pants that came fresh out of the wash?”

“Stupid naga senses,” Virgil mumbled, his face becoming an even deeper red. “Like you didn’t dress up.”

“Oh, I did,” Janus grinned, spinning on the spot so let his long, black skirt twirl. “I just don’t mind admitting to it.”

“Let’s just go in already,” Virgil sighed and Janus chuckled. He opened the door to the diner and let Virgil step in first.

“Jan! Hi!” Amilia, an older woman that had worked there for ages, greeted. “And looking so handsome as well. You’re going to get all the ladies talking about you again.”

“I can’t help it that I have the best fashion sense in this town,” Janus winked and Amilia laughed, leading them to an empty table.

“Be right with you two.” She hurried away.

“It’s still weird to me how you know everyone no matter where you go.” Virgil shook his head, looking after her.

“You’ll get used to it. I’m sure, soon enough you’ll get to know most of them, too. The only reason they haven’t talked your ear off is because you seem like you’d have a heart attack if they looked at you for too long.”

“Stop messing with me.”

“I’m not!”

Virgil looked at Janus with a raised brow and he held up his hands in defense.

“Okay, maybe I’m wording it in a way to tease you, but essentially it’s true. You’re a very obvious introvert and they don’t want to scare you off. So they focus their attention on me to give you a chance to get used to things.”

“You country folk are weird.” Despite Virgil’s words, Janus could see him trying to hide a smile.

“Then tell me more about what ‘city folk’ are like.” Janus actually mimed quotation marks and Virgil couldn’t help but laugh.

From there their conversation flowed easily. They swapped stories about their childhoods, discussed their favorite movies, discovered that they had the same favorite author and so on. The food was also delicious, and Janus was very comfortable. He did notice however, that Virgil got more tense as the evening continued, so he declined Amilia’s offer of the dessert menu and instead asked for the check.

Virgil insisted on paying, in part as a thank you for Janus helping him with his leg. Janus let him with the condition that he could cook for him next time.

As they stepped out of the diner – which had gotten a bit crowded over time – Janus watched Virgil’s shoulders relax.

“Was it too much in there?” he asked as they walked down the street. Their homes were in the same direction and a comfortable walking distance away.

“Of course you noticed,” Virgil sighed but there was a fondness in his voice. “Yeah, but I’ve always been more comfortable outdoors than inside. I’m also a bit claustrophobic. Since the whole wolf thing it’s become almost an urge to go outside sometimes. The familiar I am with a space, the better it is though.”

“Well then, I will make sure to consider that for any future dates.” Janus winked at Virgil whose cheeks turned red again.

~*~

True to his word, Janus invited Virgil to his home for their next date.

“Welcome, Virgil dear,” he greeted him at the door. “I’m still in the middle of preparing the food. I hope you won’t mind joining me in the kitchen.”

“Not at all. Nice apron.” Virgil took off his boots as Janus already hurried back to the stove.

“Thank you! It was a gift from my grandmother.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed with the embroidered ‘Granny’s favorite.’”

“She was the kind to embarrass me on purpose,” Janus laughed.

“Well, you’re the one who chose to use it during a date,” Virgil pointed out as he entered the kitchen and looked over Janus’ shoulder. “You want any help with that? I’m not a great cook, but I’m sure I could do something useful.”

“No,” came the immediate reply.

“You didn’t have to turn me down that fast,” Virgil laughed to hide how he was slightly hurt by the quick rejection.

“Sorry.” Janus turned down a dial on the stove before turning to Virgil with a sheepish expression. “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t like cooking with others. I have my systems and can get very irritated when something’s out of place.”

“Oh. That’s kind of funny.”

“Be quiet and sit down,” Janus pouted and Virgil laughed.

~*~

“A festival?”

“Yes, the next town over. A forty-minute drive from here. They have food stalls, a small rollercoaster and a ferris wheel. I’ve been a few times, it’s a nice atmosphere. Plus, there’s a firework show at the end.” Janus held out the flyer for Virgil to take but he looked very reluctant.

“I don’t know. Sounds like a lot of people.”

Janus narrowed his eyes. “There’s more to it than that. I don’t mind not going but please be honest with me about your reasons. I don’t want to overstep any of your boundaries if I can help it.”

Virgil mumbled something under his breath. Janus put the flyer away and grabbed his hands gently.

“Louder, please? I promise I won’t think any less of you.”

“The fireworks. I don’t like fireworks. They’re loud and since my turning my hearing’s gotten better, so it’s even worse now.”

“Okay. That’s fine. We can leave early if that’s the main reason. Of course, we don’t have to go at all either.”

“No, I’d like to go. As long as we’re gone before the fireworks start.”

“Wonderful. I’ll look forward to it.”

~*~

“She really should have known better,” Janus commented, eyes fixated on the screen as they watched The Princess Diaries. Mia was just running away from the paparazzies after her kiss with Josh. “Like he was so obviously only after the publicity.”

“She’s fifteen and had a crush on him for ages, give her some slack,” Virgil snorted.

“I was smarter when I was fifteen.”

“Oh, shut up. You wanted to watch this movie. You said it’s one of your favorites.”

“It is! Doesn’t change the fact that Mia is a bit stupid in this one.”

“Like she learned anything for the second one. She’s just as bad with Nicholas.”

“True. Maybe she shouldn’t lead a country.”

They continued their back and forth throughout the rest of the movie and Virgil couldn’t help but watch Janus more than the screen.

~*~

Virgil couldn’t concentrate on his book. He and Janus were reading on the latter’s couch, enjoying the quiet afternoon. It’s been three weeks since the bear trap incident and honestly, Virgil hadn’t thought he could get so comfortable with another person so quickly.

Which made the prospect of the coming full moon all the more anxiety inducing.

Yes, Janus knew he was a werewolf. Had even already seen him in his wolf form. But it would be different this time.

This time he would know that it was him.

Virgil wasn’t worried that he would hurt him – he had the wolf fully under control – but impulse control was a lot harder, and he was wanton to do some embarrassing things.

“Virgil dear?”

Janus’ voice startled him out of his thoughts and he looked over to the other who had placed his book down and watched him with worried eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine.” His voice broke and Janus looked at him unimpressed but empathetic. (Only he could pull that look off, somehow.) “Just thinking too much,” he admitted. Janus offered him his hand and Virgil took it gratefully. Somehow just holding on to Janus calmed him down.

“It’s just that the full moon’s approaching, so I’ll need to shift at least a few hours each day to be comfortable and… I’m kind of embarrassed.”

Understanding lit up in Janus’ eyes and he smiled.

“Oh, darling, I’m sure it will only endear me to you more.”

“You don’t know that.”

“True. But from what you told me, it sounds like a fun time. I actually look forward to seeing you a bit more loose than usual. You so rarely let yourself truly relax.”

“I’m probably going to drag you with me to the woods.”

“That’s fine. I like the woods. I’ll make sure to keep a flashlight and compass on my person.”

“I’ll want to play.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“I’m gonna get cuddly.”

“Oh no, the horror!” Janus exclaimed with an eyeroll. He looked at Virgil with a teasing smile on his lips. “I promise you, dear, I’ll come into it with an open mind and not judge you for what the wolf you does. I might tease you a bit about it, but you have to cut me some slack, you’re just too adorable when you get red like that.”

Virgil buried his head in his knees to hide his flush.

“You’re being unfair.”

“Sorry, you just make it so easy and fun to do.”

“I hate you.”

“Then let go of my hand.”

“No.”

Janus chuckled and returned to his book. Virgil squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. It truly felt like home.

#namiswriting #One's Hometown One's New Home #Chapter Seven: Learning About Each Other #anxceitweek2023 #anxceit #ts janus #janus sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #original female background character #fluff #human!au #werewolf!virgil #last chapter #multichapter fic #sanders sides #fanfiction #reblogs are appreciated

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hecatemoon87 · 11 months

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A Modern James Delaney Story - master list

Chapter Two

Tala handed her invitation to the concierge. The Charity ball was being hosted by the Arrow Lake Resort, a rather luxurious hotel. She was guided to a large conference room that had a view of an expansive lake behind the hotel.

It was already very crowded. The women were dressed in lavish, expensive looking dresses. While the men wore sophisticated looking black suits. Hors d'oeuvres and champagne flutes were being served by staff on silver plates.

In the midst of all the opulence stood display cases filled with Tribal artwork. Tala approach a display case that was filled by a drawing of a turtle in red and black paint on some sort of animal hide.

A childhood memory gradually filled her mind.

"Come, little wolf. You see right there, by the river edge? That is brother turtle. He is the most patient of all the animals. Because he moves so slowly, he is able to think clearly about his path. Whenever you think you're headed in the wrong direction, slow down, be patient and things will become more clear," the words of her grandfather echoed from the past.

"If only these were for sale, I'd buy it." A chubby white woman said, looking at the turtle.

"Claudia, please. It's painted on some sort of animal skin, you really want that hanging in your home?" another white woman said, her face poised in a image of disgust.

"How dare you! This is my people's culture and history. It belongs to us, not in your fucking house!" Tala snapped at the women angrily.

She had only been there ten minutes and she was already sick and tired of these people. She turned around and headed out to patio that faced the lake. As she exited a cold wind rushed past, biting at her skin.

She had looked around for Delaney before she exited, but did not see him. How much longer would she have to wait until he showed up? That was if he showed up. She walked up to rail of the patio and leaned against it, staring out at the lake.

It was so serene, the lake. It was a flat, bluish gray and since it was a cloudless night, she could see the moon reflected upon the water.

The air was cold, it was May after all in Canada. But she didn't care, she needed to feel nature, be in nature. What was inside wasn't her life and she hated how people could be so thoughtless.

As she watched the small waves in the water, she heard the door open and close behind her. She braced herself for security to ask her to leave. Instead, a man joined her at the balcony rail. He gave her space, about four feet off it.

She turned to look at him and was surprised to see it was James Delaney. He casually pulled out his vape and sucked in some smoke.

"Well, that was rather amusing," he said, his deep voice interrupting the silence.

"I'm sorry?" Tala asked, confused.

"You chastising those women," he said, exhaling a stream of smoke. The smoke drifted through the air, flavoring it with a hint of cinnamon.

"They deserved it," Tala said, defensively.

"Indeed they did," James said. "I've never seen you before, who are you?"

"My name is Tala, Tala Swiftstorm. You've never seen me before because we don't exactly run in the same circles."

"Swiftstorm...," James muttered, as if recalling the name. "Ah, yes. The journalist/activist," he finally said.

"Yeah, that's me. I'm actually glad to have run into you, I'd like to ask you a few questions," she said.

"Mhmmm, I'm sure you do," James said, his brilliant blue eyes dancing over her.

"Yes, I do. You see, I've been trying to reach out to you for almost a year. So, I want to do this here and now," she demanded.

"I was not aware of your attempts in contacting me," he said, placing his hand in his pocket and extracting his wallet.

"Just what do you think you are doing? If you think you can bribe me in going away, you got another thing coming," Tala said, folding her arms and glaring at him.

He arched an eyebrow as he removed a business card. Tala's eyes fell to the card. Feeling embarrassed, but wishing to save grace, she accepted the card.

"My mobile number, Ms. Swiftstorm," he said.

"And what if you don't answer? I have you here right now, why should I let this opportunity pass me by?"

"I admire your tenacity, but I'm not interested in answering your questions at this moment. You will either do it on my terms, or not at all," he said, taking a final puff from his vape. He pocketed as he exhaled a stream of smoke.

Tala's embarrassment was quickly replaced by anger. "If you have any sense of honor, you'll swear to me that you'll answer when I call."

"Honor? And just what century do you think you're living?" James said, frowning at her.

"Honor is timeless. It's rare, but not completely gone. Swear to me. Prove me wrong, that you're not some selfish, snob," she said.

He put both hands in his pockets and gave her a hard look. His keen eyes studied her intently. Eventually trailing down her body to her shoes then back up to her face.

Tala felt almost naked in front of him. He omitted just an intensity that it made her feel very vulnerable. And not exactly in a bad way. His energy projected dominance, focus and unshakable confidence. This man was completely in control of his domain.

Helga was right, he was hot.

"Fine. I swear it," he said. And with that he turned and left her on the patio.

-----

The following morning Tala removed Delaney's business card from her desk drawer. She stared at the card hard. "You better answer Mr. Delaney or I will call upon all my ancestors to curse you," she grumbled. She then picked up her phone and dialed his number.

After three rings he picked up and said, "Ms. Swiftstorm, I presume?"

She frowned, what a cocky bastard.

"That's right. I wanted to set up a meeting with you as soon as possible," she said.

There was a brief silence on the other line, the sound of a keyboard being typed on was the only noise she could hear.

"Looks like I'm booked solid, Ms. Swiftstorm. Perhaps we could meet in August?" he said.

"August? That's almost three months from now!" she said, sounding bitterly disappointed.

"It's regrettable. And I was so looking forward to you berating me about the environment," he said, a smug tone in his voice.

"What? I...look, August? That's unfair. You're changing the terms of our agreement. What about your honor and swearing to me!" she said, starting to feel her cheeks burn with rage.

"This Saturday, there is a function I have to attend. I suggest you come and bring a friend. There, I promise to answer all your questions," he said.

"Fine. Text me the location and time. And you promise to answer all my questions?" she asked.

"Yes. Oh and Ms. Swiftstorm, the function requires a specific attire, I think you might ask your friend Helga about what you should wear," he said then hung up the phone.

Tala was struck speechless. How did he know she was friends with Helga? Immediately Tala called Helga and told her everything.

Helga started laughing and sounded like she wouldn't stop laughing for a moment. "Helga! What's going on? How does he know that we're friends? And this function thing on Saturday, what is it?"

"Well, I told you. I've met him a few times. He is aware of my work, he's even invested in some of my projects. That dress you were wearing last night isn't on the market yet. My god, he's smart and sexy as hell, what can he not do?"

"Okay, I'm lost. That still doesn't explain..."

"Darling, really? How else would you have gotten that dress? Clearly he detected that you knew me in some fashion. He got lucky by suggesting that we are friends. Plus, well, I'm inviting to the function he's talking about for Saturday," Helga said.

"What, really? What sort of function is it?" Tala asked, she was dying for more information.

"It's beach themed party. Inside of course, there's a heated pool and they even bring in real sand," Helga said.

Tala was silent for a solid moment. Her blood seemed to be boiling and she was trying to take deep, calming breaths. "Helga. He said I should ask you what attire we need to wear...."

"Yes, it would be swimwear," Helga said, beginning to laugh again.

"He wants to have this meeting while I'm dressed in swimwear...is this some sort of tactic to deter me from meeting him?"

"Or, you could use it as a tactic in pulling information from him?" Helga offered. "I have some pretty tasteful, but sexy swimwear. Even heels to match."

Tala smiled on the other end of the phone. "Hmm, you've convinced. If he thinks he can bully me, I'm going to show him the goods. But he won't be allowed to touch," she said.

"I am woman, hear me roar!" Helga said, laughing. "Good. Then come over around noon on Saturday. We'll get ourselves all sexied up and go and conquer that party!"

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic #james delaney #james delaney au

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marzmeltdown · 10 months

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Familiar Taste of Poison - pt 4

⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Fem!Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW: LIGHT MENTIONS OF Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, implied depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, some mention of being sick, clubbing, swearing, mentions of roofies but nothing graphic happens (there are no rape elements in any part of this chapter. If you skip that part, you won't miss anything too important I promise and understand if you do.), one mention of gagging at the smell of food but the m/c is hung over so. ⌦ Word count: 2.26k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: Wonwoo's part is kind of filler tbh,, If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ I have attached a link to a website with help hotlines around the world, this series has heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse. This link will be added to every chapter. ⌦ International Mental Health hotlines

⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

⌦ marz’s tag list ⌦ marz’s req form

⌦ (Reader's pov) Months went by before you felt well enough to go out with your friends again, and Wonwoo's words kept echoing in your mind whenever you would get a text from them inviting you out. Tonight, you decided that wallowing in your own self-pity wasn't going to make anything better; there was only one thing that would make everything go back to the way it was previously, and you weren't ready to face the music just yet.

"Can I borrow this dress?" Your friend Chelsea asked, holding up a black sequin dress that sparkled when the light hit it. Your parents would always say something along the lines of it hardly being a dress every time you wore it to a family function. Not that you went to those much anymore.

You looked up from your spot on the floor, moving the mascara wand from your face so you didn't mess up your makeup. You had a bathroom with nice lighting, but nothing is better than sitting on the floor in your bedroom in front of a floor-length mirror. Your makeup always looks better when you do it that way.

"I was gonna wear that, but I guess you can wear it," you said before turning your attention back to the mirror and finishing your makeup.

"Thank you! I promise I'll give it back!" she exclaimed as she bounced off into your bathroom with the dress. You rolled your eyes slightly, letting out a sigh, because you knew you would never see that dress again. Spritzing your face with setting spray, you then began to do your hair, curling the strands into loose waves.

You looked at yourself in the mirror once you found a new dress. It wasn't nearly as flattering as the black sequin one you loaned to your friend, but you still looked damn good in it. You wondered if any of your friends were picking up on your less than enthusiastic demeanor; after all, you were frowning in the mirror.

Yejun stepped behind you, placing her hands on your shoulders as she looked at you through the mirror.

"You okay?" She asked. She was the only friend you had in this group of girls that you actually considered a good friend. Even though she would abandon you along with the other girls when you went a little too hard, she would always call you the day after and make sure you made it home safely.

"Not really, but I can't stay upset forever." You shrugged, the lump in your throat that hadn't gone away since Wonwoo cut you out of his life making a return. You reached up to squeeze one of her hands reassuringly, saying, "And besides, is it ever a party without me?" You joked lightly.

The Uber ride to the club was quiet; it was a thick feeling, and you could tell your friends were talking about you in another group chat. You knew good and well about this group chat, but how could you confront them without any evidence? Yejun would probably deny having told you anyway; as good of a person as she was, she was still a snake at times.

The club was loud, with music pumping from every corner, girls drunkenly singing along to some club remix of a Rihanna song, and the smell of sweat filling your senses. You made a beeline to the bar, ordering a few drinks to soothe the lump that hadn't left your throat since it returned.

It didn't take long until you were joining your friends on the dance floor, drink in hand, as you moved with no rhythm to a song you didn't know. You felt a figure press itself against your back, grinding up into you, causing you to jump just a bit.

Looking behind you, you saw a man who looked pretty good based on what the strobe lights would illuminate. His grip on his hand loosened when your head snapped back at him, and only when you turned to face him to continue dancing did his hands grip against your waist again.

Feeling the music, you wrapped your arms around his neck, effectively grinding up against each other so much that you were afraid your dress would ride up. It was a while before you took a drink from the clear cup of fruity liquid that was in your hand. The thirty minutes after you'd taken the last few sips of your drink seemed to be fine, until the feeling of being uneasy hit you like a ton of bricks.

The fear of throwing up on this poor man was more important than your head spinning and your vision blurring as you stumbled to the bathroom. You could hear footsteps behind you, but you couldn't tell whose footsteps they were until that same hand gripped your wrist with the same force it had used to hold onto your waist.

"Where are you going, princess? The fun's just starting," he whispered in your ear. He pulled you close to his body as yours began to go limp. You were too weak and too out of it to fight back; you were sure tonight would end in a way you hadn't planned for.

"Get away from her, you pig!" You heard someone say it, followed by the sounds of something being sprayed and the man screaming. The music was too loud for anyone to have noticed, and the only thing you could be certain of was that the cold feeling of the marble floor you'd slumped onto felt nice against your sweaty skin.

Just as you began to find comfort in the cold temperature of the marble floor beneath you and the darkness that began clouding the edges of your vision, you were hoisted up once more. With the little bit of strength you had left, you looked up to see Yejun carrying you to what you had assumed was the bathroom.

She was saying something to you, but your senses were too far gone for you to know what she was saying. By the time you two had made it to the bathroom, you were hardly holding yourself up, and your eyes felt like a thousand weighted blankets. You could feel yourself being propped against the wall and hear the sound of the sink starting. You tried your best to keep yourself aware of your surroundings—anything to prolong the darkness that threatened to envelope you at any second.

You could feel water on your face and a cup being pressed to your lips. You had the foresight to reject the liquid until it hit your tongue, and you could tell it was water.

⌦(Readers pov) You weren't sure how you got home that night, but you were thankful when you woke up in your own bed and not in some random alleyway. You looked around, expecting to still see the mess from the night before, but instead you were met with a clean room, closed curtains, a glass of water, and two painkillers on your nightstand.

There was a knock on your bedroom door as you sat up, taking the glass from the bedside table along with the medicine. You half expected to see your best friend on the other side of the door when it opened, but what you saw shocked you. Yejun was outside the door.

"You're up." She smiled softly, walking into your room with a bowl of what looked like ramen. The smell made your stomach turn, and you had to stop yourself from gagging before you were able to take the medicine.

"Yea, how…how long was I out?" You asked; your phone was on the nightstand, but it hadn't been put on the charger when you were put to bed. Yejun sat the bowl of food on your dresser as she made her way to the edge of your bed, sitting across from you.

"Awhile, it's almost 4," she said. It was silent in the room for a moment; you weren't sure what to say. "Do you remember what happened last night?"

"Not really, why?" You asked, furrowing your brows.

"Someone drugged you, but I got to you before anything happened. I tried to get ahold of your friend, the one that always takes you home after parties, but I couldn't get ahold of him." She said she was playing with the cracking nail polish on her fingers.

You looked down at the cup of water in your hands, a small smile creeping its way to your face. It was not a smile of happiness; quite the opposite, actually; it was one of disbelief.

"I'm not surprised; he said he didn't want to be around me anymore if I continued to…" you trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"Use him?" Yejun said.

"Yeah, essentially," you said. Your finger traced the rim of the glass as you thought. "I think I should get some help,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yea, I was drugged last night, and I always get way too fucked up for you guys to have fun; I'm bound to get severely hurt one day," you said.

"That's really brave of you; I'll support your decision no matter what." Yejun said, resting her hand on your shin.

"That means I need to cut the girls out of my life," you said, and Yejun retracted her hand. You looked up at her, reaching over to grab her hand. "Not you; if it weren't for you finding me, I don't know what would have happened."

⌦(Wonwoo's pov) Wonwoo couldn't stop himself from looking at the ten missed calls he had from you from the night before; not being there to save you was taking a toll on him. He was worried something had happened, and he almost called you back until his phone displayed Hannah's face on his screen. Wonwoo and Hannah were going pretty steady, having been together for about 3 months at this point.

Wonwoo let out a sigh to expel any of the bad feelings he had been feeling before he answered the phone. He smiled as soon as Hannah's face popped up on his screen.

"Hey, Honey Bee- whats wrong?" Hannah said, noticing how his smile looked forced and his shoulders were more slouched than normal.

"Nothing, nothing; I'm just tired," he said, moving his free hand around as if to swat away any of the worry Hannah had.

"Are you sure? You look upset," she said, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," he replied, leaning back against the couch as he spoke.

"It's about that girl, isn't it?" She asked. Despite feeling some way about you, she didn't like seeing her boyfriend upset. Wonwoo only nodded, averting his gaze from the phone screen.

"Yeah… I have 10 missed calls from her," he said, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was silent for a moment, which only made Wonwoo feel worse about bringing up another girl to his girlfriend.

"Do you think she's okay?" She asked. Though her questions were sincere, her voice gave away her irritation. It was clear that Hannah would never be comfortable with the relationship you two once shared, and understandably so.

"I hope so,"

"Do you want to meet up for dinner? I think we have some things to talk about," she said. Now it was her turn to look away from the camera.

"Why don't you just come here? I can make you dinner," Wonwoo suggested.

"Sounds good; I'll be there soon," she said before she hung up.

It didn't take long for Hannah to show up at Wonwoo's doorstep; the air between them was thick, and Wonwoo wasn't exactly sure why. He had a feeling that whatever Hannah needed to speak about, it was going to be bad, or else she wouldn't have asked to speak in person.

Wonwoo made a simple dinner: sundubu jjigae with kimchi. The two sat in silence as they both ate at the dinner table. Each time Hannah would pause her movements, Wonwoo would look up from his food as if to ask her if she was okay.

"Wanna talk about it?" Wonwoo finally asked, setting his spoon down next to his bowl and looking up at his girlfriend.

"I was gonna wait till we finished eating…" Hannah trailed off, following Wonwoo's motions as she placed her spoon down and looked up at him. "I've been thinking a lot about us; you're a great guy, Wonwoo, truly. Any girl would be lucky to have you, but…"

"But?" Wonwoo's heart didn't drop like he had expected it to; if he were being honest, it felt as though his relationship with Hannah was close to an end. He didn't expect this relationship to last.

"But I can't help but feel hurt when I notice that you're always checked out whenever we're together. You're always worrying about someone, and that someone isn't me. I don't want you to feel like I'm upset with you or hate you, but it's pretty obvious that we're lying to ourselves if we think this relationship is going to last," Hannah continued.

"I understand; I haven't been the best boyfriend. You deserve so much better, Hannah," Wonwoo said.

"You're not upset?"

"Well, I'm not exactly happy, but I can't change your mind, and you deserve someone better," Wonwoo said, looking at the wall behind Hannah.

The two finished their meal in silence before Hannah left. Wonwoo sighed as he washed the dishes. He had some crappy luck with relationships, it seemed.

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autumn-sweet-fae · 1 year

Text

Story time

So I have two older half brothers. The oldest, J, lived with our side of the family for most of my early childhood and the other, K, lived with their mom but would visit on holidays.

When K would visit, he loved to prank my sister and I, usually with a lot of fart jokes. He was a little boy so anything fart related was the absolute height of humor to him. I, being the youngest, was the most gullible and would fall for almost every joke/prank he made.

This resulted in an absolute hatred and disgust at the slightest mention of flatulence in my first ten years of life. It wasn’t until our dear beloved Bill Nye the Science Guy explained how natural that bodily function was that I got over it. But anyway, the point is that at the age of 8 I always became irrationally angry at any mention of the word ‘Fart’.

The boys who sat with me at my second grade desk group soon discovered this rage button and, of course, found my reactions hilarious. One day I got so annoyed I told them I was going to tell the teacher on them. They of course laughed because they knew that they weren’t breaking any real rules. Still, I hoped the teacher would see my distress and how gleefully the boys ignored it and would put a stop to them.

When I went to speak to our teacher, Mrs. N, I was very shy and didn’t know what to say. The problem was that I hated the word ‘fart’ so much that I could not even bring myself up say it. Especially to such a dignified lady as Mrs. N, who I thought was so cool and I remember always wore black or grey.

Finally, I uttered the words “The boys at my table are saying a gross word and they won’t stop.”

Now having her full attention, she calmly asked me what the word was in a hushed voice, but I just shook my head and told her I couldn’t say it in class. She nodded in understanding and asked the TA to look after the class as she took me out to the hallway. She told me that it was ok for me to tell her the word now since she’s asking for me to and no one else will hear. Still I refused to say the terrible word.

So she tried a new tactic, and started to ask me about the word,

She asked me what the word meant. I wrinkled my nose and shrugged my little shoulders in disgust, saying it was something really gross the people do with their bodies.

Startled, she asked how I knew this word. I told her how my older brother uses the word all the time when he visits for holidays.

She became a bit more serious and asked me how many letters were in the word. I told her that there were four letters but that I did not want to spell it.

After a pause, she asked me if I could at least tell her the first letter of the word.

“F”

At this final clue she seemed to understand exactly what I had told her. She put a hand on my shoulder and sincerely thanked me for bringing this matter to her attention. She promised she would talk to those boys and put a stop to their terrible behavior immediately.

I was delighted! I went back to my seat with my head held high, so proud and validated by my teachers reaction. Those boys were confused by my smug grin but their reactions quickly turned to fear when our teacher called for each of them to join her in the hall.

Unfortunately my memory of these events ends here. Those feelings of validation being the reason this memory had become cemented into my mind. For years, whenever I thought of a teacher who was on my side, who believed me and stood by me, I always thought of Mrs. N.

It wasn’t until I was about 20 that I finally realized what word my cool second grade teacher thought I had been trying to tell her. And at this realization, all I could say was:

“Fuck!”

#story time #my childhood #school #story #long post #my babbling

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yourstruly410 · 1 year

Text

END;

genre: angst

pairing: minjae x original character

What happens when things remembered by only two is lost by by the tragic death of one; furthermore, what happens when the other has forgotten? This is a story about the memories that have been lost to the world, and how what once was happy can now be heart shattering.

TW: rape/sa, major character death

The car was flipping, he couldn't help but think this would be the last time he'd ever be with her. looking over he saw her holding her signature smile. Same she wore when was happily spinning, showing off the new dress her mom bought her. The same smile that she proudly showed off whenever he would offer to buy her one of the items she ogled at. The same smile she bore in so many instances, a smile that filled his memories, one he never wanted to forget.

She looked at him, holding the smile steady, and stared into his eyes, eyes that saw her happily jump when he offered her those shoes she couldn't afford. Eyes that watched her graduate, watched her play soccer with her team, watched her cry and trembled. They both shared the memories that needed to be shared by two, the childhood and 20 years worth of the life of two shared in those memories. They were so precious to each other, each holding a portion of the other's life time in their head; a portion that no one else would know.

“I love you Minjae,” she whispered, closed her eyes, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

The car hit a tree, then another. The car was slipping down the side of a mountain covered in woods. A realization hit him; she knew she wouldn't make it, that this really would be the last time they saw each other.

He screamed, disbelief sinking in and tears slipping out. “No, no, no, don’t do this,” his words gradually turned to a whisper. His vision became blurry and he wasn't sure if it was because of the tears or if he was losing consciousness.

Nevertheless that would be the last time he saw her, as well as the last time he'd ever remember her.

July 2014

Marie was esthetic, three practice games and she hadn't lost once. Maybe he was being easy on her or maybe he just wasn’t very good at this game. Either way Marie was enjoying herself while reigning in a bigger ego than she already had.

"Loser," she screamed, using her thumb and index finger to form an L over her head. She loved to boast, something about being better than others made her heart beat quicker and she couldn't help but have a smile brighter than 300 hundred stars. It worked out for the both of them because as long as she was smiling he was happy too.

They were 14, getting ready to enter high school the next year; both in their first year together. They had been best friends since they were as little as four, born about a month apart, while their parents were closer than any other friends. They grew up side by side, glued at the hip. Never once had their bond faltered. It was to a point that their parents would joke and say they were soulmates, lifes already written in the stars.

They were quite the pair too:

He was the voice of reason and she was the idiot who didn't listen, but it worked because when she would fall into the pool, or slip on black ice he'd always be there to pick her up and walk her home. That's how they worked, but it wasn't just her that was helped. When ever need be, she'd be there to put a smile on his face and his laugh in the air. She kept him in high spirits no matter what he went through. Its how they had always been.

They may not even know how to survive without the other, only ever knowing what it's like to be together. They only know how to rely on each other, nothing less.

Although they would be separated this next year, Marie had soccer and choir and he had art and philosophy, their interests differed too much for them to be in the same classes so they had long started coping with the information that they'd have to be apart. It's not like they could be glued at the hip literally, so they'd have to deal with having less time to spend together.

Of course most would think it's dramatic but let's not forget they were still children, smaller matters could feel colossal.

November 2015

Today was to be a special day, it was decided, she was to bake a cake without instructions and give it to him for his birthday. Birthdays were never super special to him but she made a point of forcing him to enjoy the day a little more than he enjoyed most days; which wasn't a very hard challenge, scene as she was the one doing it. If she's there he can find it in himself to enjoy the day, missing father or no missing father.

Of course the birthday boy has to be there to watch the creation of his own wonderful masterpiece, so here they were. Marie was caked in batter, flour, eggs, and milk. She was always bad at cleaning up messes and even worse at making them, so he stood there critiquing her and snickering at her mistakes. He had a wet washcloth ready however, knowing full well it will get much messier. Although it wasn't necessary. The cake didn't even end up in the oven, instead he went out and bought a cake at their local bakery and had her decorate it. That however was also a massive failure because as soon as she tried to squeeze some frosting out of the tube, she squeezed too hard and it imploded all over her.

He laughed, because what else should he have expected, it was Marie doing the backing and the decorating after all.

He was not about to let her sit there pouting though, so he reached his finger to her cheek and whipped some stray icing onto his finger before plopping it in his mouth and humming at the flavor. Cream cheese, not his favorite but he can stand it to make her happy.

Meanwhile she stood frozen, heart beating a mile a minute as she pondered on why her brain just went static and what this feeling was. She’d never once had this feeling in their years of knowing each other. She guessed he just never pulled such a stunt and moved on.

January 2016

Why did it sting when she should be happy, it's a big deal for him. First girlfriend and all. He's never had very much luck with girls, it's a good thing and an accomplishment. But why cant she be happy for him, why does it feel this way? Especially right now, his first girlfriend sitting right in front of her. Why did she want to slap that sweet sweet smile off her face?

She hadn't done anything wrong and yet here Marie was, wanting nothing more than to scare the girl away.

Why did it feel so wrong?

The girl had long brown hair and bright blue eyes, her aquatic eyes made Marie feel like her own wild brown eyes were nothing but dirt. The hair, styled into a french braid, made her suddenly conscious of her own hair, thrown messily in a bun with fraying ends.

She was wearing a light blue skirt with a crochet top, much more impressive than Maries jean shorts and graphic tee.

Everything about this girl made Marie feel inferior, but it's not like she intended it. The girl was just living her life, trying her best. It was Marie that was irresponsible.

March 2016

Their first invite to a party happened in march, and the party was that weekend. She had been waiting for a party invite for months, she couldn't wait for the true high school experience. However he took some convincing, after hours of begging she finally convinced him to go and forced him into some presentable clothes. As for her outfit, she wore ripped jean shorts and a short crop top with Mufasa on it, nothing special. She wanted to be able to move in it.

When they got there they didn't end up sticking very close, Marie getting lost in the crowd. While separated, a boy who looked about 16 approached her and started up small talk, he handed her a drink and urged her to chug it. With her guard completely down she chugged and chugged and as a result most of that night is a blur.

All she really remembers is being dragged to a bedroom and thrown on the bed as the boy started to undress, while intoxicated she tried to leave but nearly collapsed as she stood up.

the boy hushed her, "you don't want them to know that you're about to lose your virginity do you, slut?"

What she remembers the most was her emotions as he approached her, first it was disgust, then confusion, then terror, and as he reached her she felt pain as he grabbed her hair and her arm and roughly brought her to the bed. He started trying to restrain her, her hands above her head as he fastened his belt around them, then he held her legs, only able to hold one as he reached for her underwear, she kicked and kicked. Unable to achieve anything with her distorted senses. As her underwear started to slide she squeezed her eyes shut trying to bat away the tears, "you've gotta show strength," she had thought to herself.

However not long after, when she was expecting hands on her body instead she heard screech and a thwack. She looked up and saw a girl clutching her purse as she stared furiously at the boy that was now on the ground. Immediately she got up and booked it for the door, that's when he showed up, a panicked look appeared as soon as he saw her. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the house, away from the chaos and didn't stop walking until they reached her house.

Then he spoke up. "Are you okay to be alone?"

As caring as ever, it both made her feel safe and made her want to sob, and so she did, right into his chest as she begged him to wait for her parents to get home.

July 2016

It had been a couple months since the incident and he hasn't let her be alone for a second besides a couple minutes every now and then. She felt thankful and safe with him there, but his girlfriend wasn't too happy and broke it off saying he wasn't committed. Which made her feel guilty even though he assured her time and time again that it would've happened eventually. She still felt conflicted, somehow she was happy that they broke up but she knew it wasn't right of her and she still didn't understand why.

"Wanna watch a movie in the living room tonight?" he asked.

"hell yeah" she replied, almost instantly.

And so a movie they watched, Marmeduke to be specific. One of them was crying and the other was wondering why she was crying.

“It's an emotional movie okay?” she had said in response to the judgemental look displayed on his face.

Movie nights where most nights recently, she didn't particularly enjoy the thought of being home alone, and he realized that and offered movies on the days he knew her parents would be home late. That doesn't mean she wouldn't end up alone every once in a while with either her parents coming home to the sound of her thrashing breaths and her cheeks covered with tears, or him showing up and finding her struggling to breath while sitting on the couch.

It was a difficult time for everyone involved, eventually her parents decided to enroll her in some therapy, hoping for the best for their daughter. It did help some, she was able to be alone for a couple hours without panicking and she no longer felt the need to cry every time she thought about it. However that doesn't mean her trauma will go away, the therapist had informed her parents that she will most likely have issues trusting men and won't fare well alone with a man.

Her parents followed every instruction they were given, and were there for their daughter every step of the way, they were also very thankful to Minjae for being there when they couldn't.

July 2017

They were now in their junior year, it had been over a year since that incident and Marie had gotten much better. She would have the occasional panic attack and every once in a while she'd wake up sweaty from a nightmare, but overall she improved and was back to being almost as happy as she used to be. The movie nights had become a habit however, they would have them on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. Today was one of those days, snuggled into a pile under one blanket watching Reck-It-Ralf. Commentary was thrown in here and there but there were also moments where they both just laid in silence, eyes wide as the plot thickens.

Once it was over they indulge in discussion,

“Okay but imagine how heartbroken she must've been, her wedding day of all days.” was Maries commentary.

“But she went kind of batshit crazy and fell for the mini hammer wielding guy later,” he interjected, and on goes the banter, fighting over whether or not you should like the character.

Many nights were spent in a similar fashion, but every once in a while he would take her to her favorite cafe and treat her to whatever she wanted. He started to treat her how he felt about her, trying to move their relationship out of the friendzone as discreetly as possible. Eventually she caught on and dumly commented, something along the lines of ‘are you my boyfriend now’ and he couldn't help but respond with a simple question, “would that be so bad,” making the encounter a memorable moment. Marie finally understood all the confusing emotions.

That was the first day they became more. The rest of her life would be spent happily with him, she loved him beyond the confines of the universe.

They made memories together, and stored them in their brains, left to be reminisced upon memory.

December 2018

2018 had been a busy year for the both of them, buying cars, graduating, moving out. They were in an apartment building, they had adopted a puppy and set their sights on raising it together. He wanted to take her on a vacation though, he wanted to show Marie the world and learn all kinds of things with her by his side. They were set to leave the next month. They were going to go to Paris first, they'd spend a week in every country they visited and come back in a month to two months. He had been saving up since he first got a job so he could go on this trip. They'd make so many memories and fill their heads with so much joy. He felt overly optimistic about this trip.

They set off in January of 2019, paris was beautiful and they learned lots of words from locals, next stop was england, they had known some people and stayed with them, visiting beaches and going to amusement parks, and water parks. Marie enjoyed the water park more than anything else, she loved to push him in and splash water all over his hair. They then went to Japan, they decided to stay in a love motel as a joke, they visited the hachiko statue and roamed around all sorts of cities in Japan. After Japan they went to South Korea, visiting all the cafes that were trending, staying in a hotel in the center of seoul.

they spent 2 months going to as many places they could, their final stop was chile before they flew back home to the states, however on the way home from the airport(having paid to leave their car there for this trip) they would encounter their last memory together, and loose their precious time all too fast.

May 2019

He awoke to silence, not eerie but not peaceful, a silence that wasn't the voice of any feeling or emotions, a white wall, a bright light, a monitor. His heartbeat began to pick up and the silence was interrupted by a beeping, and he slowly began to hear his own breath.

His breathing was erratic and uncontrollable, panic began to set in as he wandered, where was he?

“Minjae? Sir?” a voice started to filter through, he thrashed his head in search of the sorce. Finding a petite woman looking at him with emance concern, as other men and woman filled into the room, all dressed in blue from head to toe.

“Where am I?” he panicked, “Whos Minjae?”

the lady froze, “Sir can you tell me what you last remember eating?”

“What do you mean I,” he stared, but quickly realized he didn't know, “I don't remember.”

The lady quickly ushered the others out of the room and closed the door, hesitating to speak, “Sir,” she began, circling her pointer fingers around each other , “your name is Kim Minjae, you were in an accident a week ago and only just now gained consciousness, do you remember anything from the week before the accident?”

and that was how he found out where he was, a hospital, he also found out he remembered nothing of his life. Every memory erased, unknown whether he will ever get them back.

June 2019

He started his physical recovery that week, and was quickly able to return home, however he had to attend weekly therapy sessions in hopes of unlocking his hidden memories, in the meantime his family showed his pictures and videos of what a great time he had, trying so desperately to get him to remember them.

one day the end of June he ran into someone that looked familiar, so tried to speak to them but the man glared a dagger into his soul and muttered to his partner, a fragile looking woman.

“how could he not keep her safe?” he had muttered, and that statement went straight to his head.

Has he failed someone? Did he hurt someone? Who is the ‘she’ referenced? Was he a bag guy?

July 2019

Every once in a while Minjae had this aching feeling, like something was missing from him. It was almost like a part of him had been ripped out and replaced with dirty towels, he wonders if this feeling was why he couldn't remember anything; doctors had cleared him from any internal or external injuries that would cause amnesia, eventually deciding it was Dissociative Amnesia. This is a PTSD response to a traumatic event, aka his car crash. Altho he didn't understand why it was everything rather than just the crash, some pieces don't fit. Like how he was told he was alone in the car, but has a slight memory, more so a feeling, that there was someone else.

Soon Minjae started having nightmares, waking dreams where he couldnt remember what had happened; only the feeling of dread and terror coursing through his body. He’d wake with tears streaming down his face, unable to breath, as if he had forgotten that too. Sometimes the dreams made him scream in his sleep, and sometimes they made him scratch him self while thrashing.

August 2019

The dreams started to change, he started to see a girl, maybe 14, clad in a purple soccer uniform. She would yell something out to him that he couldn't hear, sounding like his head was under water, and then hes wake up. For some reason when he had this dream he woke with tear stains on his cheeks but a slightly happy feeling spread throughout his body. He felt like the universe was telling him to find this girl, that he was meant to know her.

September 2019

His dreams would now alternate. One night he would see a vision from the crash, a tree coming straight for him only to be stopped by the metal roofing of the car, and the next he’d see the girl clad in purple and kicking her soccer ball.

As the year passed his memories became clearer, he now remembered his mothers last birthday, and the meaning behind his dogs name, though he couldn't figure out who that girl in purple was. Whenever he asked his family they would brush him off and tell him she was no one they knew anymore.

October 2020

It had been over a year since the accident and most of his memories had slowly returned, he still yearned to know what happened in the accident and had yet to find out who the soccer girl was, although he refused to give up. The feeling he had every time he was blessed with a dream about her told him she was important, he wanted to be able to hold that feeling in his hands and hug it close. It was only time he felt so happy, able to forget about all the forgottens, and only think about that memorable feeling. It was as if he got lost in a flower field every time he awoke from the dream.

November 2020

He had finally stopped having dreams of the crash, instead he started having more dreams of the soccer girl, this time she look more around 16 or 17, she was curled into a blanket with a bowl of popcorn. Minjae would awake with the urge to argue, like he wanted to get a reaction out of her. He’d giggle at the little feelings that fluttered through him in the dreams.

December 2020

He was sitting in a terminal, waiting on someone, he wasn't sure who quite yet. Then she walked out from the corner and her name flew out of his mouth like instinct.

“Marie! did you forget which gate we are at,” he chuckled, watching as she rolled her eyes.

as she was formulating a response she thrusted the ice cream she had just bought into his hands, “Maybe I got distracted by some airport hottie.”

“a gasp, how could you when I’m right here.”

this playful banter continued as they walked to their seats to wait for the plane.

He had flown into a conversation so easily, smiling at her everytime she fumbled with her bag or dropped a crumb and scrambled to pick it up.

Not before long their plane was ready to go and they boarded it, sitting side by side as Marie stuffed one of her earbuds into his right ear, clicking play on their joint playlist.

Their flight was quiet and peaceful, both falling asleep only minutes into the fight. Eventually being awoken by slight turbulence.

They got off the plane and headed for baggage, then went straight to the parking, shoving all their luggage into the trunk.

Marie got into the drivers side and started the car as Minjae hopped onto the bluetooth and set up instructions to home, playing that very same playlist from the flight.

as they were driving Minjae’s stomach started to sink, and his throat started to throb, then it happened.

a truck came flying out into their lane, Marie swerved to miss it but only sent the car tumbling down the side of the mountain, hitting tree after tree. She noticed she had started to bleed, and realized her side had already been pushed far enough to snag her leg, she knew itd be worse by the time it stopped tumbling, so she turned to Minjae and smiled. She wanted the last thing he ever heard from her to be the three words that made her heart melt even after all these years.

“I love you, minjae.”

A sob ripped from Minjae’s throat as he flew from his bed, his throat screaming at him as his hands flew to his head and he started scratching and tearing at it, blood slipping into his fingernails. His heart beat out of his chest and his breath stopped as he started to hear his own screaming, suddenly realizing why his throat hurt so bad. He now heard the banging and sobbing at his bedroom door, having accidentally left it locked.

His father finally broke the door as Minjae peered at them in a mix of anger, betrayal, and desperation. He hoped so hard that it had just been a mere dream, that he had not actually watched the love of his life die, that he hadn't actually forgotten all their shared moments, that the aching in his chest would soon end as his soulmate walked through the door. But none of that closure came to him as his father started at him grimly and his mother ran to his side engulfing him in a hug, repeating the phrase “I’m sorry” over and over.

Remembering was the worst thing he ever did. The pain that he had felt before had tripled, and there was now an added ping of guilt, why had he survived and she didn’t? could he not switch her place, give her the life she so deserved, trade his for hers?

He never fully recovered after remembering, his friends try so very hard to help him find a spark of joy, but he never bites.

He wishes he never remembered, he wants to bury all the memories again; and he tries so hard to make it happen.

He stuffs his mouth with medicine, he throws his head against the concrete, he tries every method he could think of to forget again. In the end he had to go to a hospital, to prevent him from hurting himself.

Thats what the pain of his memory did to him.

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