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mollysolo · 3 years

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Dark Paradise - Chapter (two / nineteen)

Pairing: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes X fem!Reader

Series Summary: Through out your life you’ve been able to easily get used to many things. Sudden wealth, new cities, affairs, new step-parents, drugs, etc. All of these things were normal for you, your life was pretty normal to you at least. That was until a certain man flipped your world upside down.

Chapter Summary: Your new bodyguard, Bucky helps you get through a bad hangover.

Warnings: Descriptions of vomiting and dizziness + some swearing

Word count: 1.5k

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a/n: i’ve been really productive and motivated today, so here’s another chapter lol. also sorry that this chapter is kinda bad.

As you lounged in your room, Bucky pulled out one of the few books he had packed and began to peacefully read it.

The pages of the book felt soft and fragile under his calloused fingers.

These pages made him feel like he was touching a woman for the first time in years and sometimes he’d pretend that he was actually in the presence of a woman who loved him.

As pathetic as that sounds, that was the entire truth for him.

As he continued to feel the pages underneath his fingers, he thought back to when you and him first met, just a few hours before.

You looked so beautiful to him even as you snapped back at you father whilst you had no pants on. He thought the whole encounter between the two of you was cute.

But before he got too deep into his thoughts, Bucky gently shook his head and his palm made contact with the nape of his neck. He needed to get back into that professional mindset.

I shouldn’t be thinking about her like that, I mean I work for her father for fucks sake. He’d probably have me killed if he ever found about how I think about her. He nervously thought.

While Bucky sat on his bed, thinking, you were in the other room, rubbing a gentle hand to your sensitive stomach.

You softly groaned as your stomach began to churn and ache even more than it already was. You took this as a clear sign that you would probably throw up soon.

Therefore, you slowly got up from your bed and started to quickly walk to your bathroom, bumping into the wall on the way there, causing the room to start to spin.

You held your own hair back while you started to kneel in front of the toilet. You gagged at the taste as your vomit began to coat the white toilet beneath you.

Once you were done, you rested your head on your arms, just sitting there incase you had to throw up once more.

You were somewhat sure that you must have been allergic to the cinnamon flavored vodka you had tried with your friends.

You made sure to try to remember to remind yourself to never drink or eat anything with cinnamon in it ever again. You wanted to avoid another allergic reaction, if that’s even what you were going though.

As vomit began to make its way up your throat again and you poured it all into the toilet, Bucky overhead the noise of vomiting coming from your room.

He became concerned about you so, he softly shut his book before heading over to your bathroom.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he saw you hunched over the toilet as your arms took up the shape of the seat and sweat trailed down your back, staining your shirt.

You looked incredibly sickly and even though he was just your bodyguard, nothing more, he knew he had to help you. He couldn’t bare watching you suffer by yourself on the cold floor.

“Everything alright?” he asked you, crouching down next to you.

“Fuckin’ hell you scared me Bucky. But no, not really. I think I’m allergic to some random vodka I tried last night. I’m not too sure though.” you replied.

“Ah.” he replied.

You whined as another wave of dizziness hit you. You lulled your head slightly to side, letting your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Quickly noticing this, Bucky scooped you up into his buff arms and kept his eyes fixated on your face as he exited your bathroom.

“Alright, let’s get you back to bed.” he told you, making sure to support your head in one of his hands as he said this.

“Okay.” you mumbled as you pressed your face into his shoulder.

His now free arm then slid down to your warm and sweaty torso.

Although you were barely aware of what you had just done, your actions still made heat rush to Bucky’s cheeks and they began to turn a light pink color.

He shook his head again, trying to get you out of his head and thoughts. But he knew that wouldn’t happen as long as your soft skin was pressed up against his.

He never wanted to take his hands off of you.

His eyes went to your distressed face as he softly set you down on your bed, your favorite tv show still playing in the background.

You loudly exhaled as you pressed your head into the plush and cold pillow under your pounding head.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go get a few things for you.” he told you.

“Wait Bucky, once you leave my room can you please get me a bucket incase I throw up again?” you begged, tugging on his arm.

He softly laughed at you as you let go of his arm. You were cute when you begged.

“Sure (y/n).” he said, a smile still on his face.

“Yay!” you faintly called out as he left the room.

He laughed once again as he made his way to your kitchen.

He returned back to your room a few minutes later with a small bucket and some stomach flu medicine in hand.

He slowly sat down next to you on your side of the bed and began to pour the liquid into the small plastic cup. You whimpered at him as your eyes fluttered open and you saw the medicine in his hands.

“Do I have to take that?” you complained.

“Yes, it’ll make you feel better.” he told you with a stern tone to his voice.

You then stared at your lap and slowly sat yourself up in your bed. You took the small cup from Bucky with shaky hands. Your face contorted with disgust as you started to consume the medicine.

He supported your weak wrist as you poured the liquid down your raw throat, his cold rings pressing into your skin. Your cheeks lightly heated up at the feeling of this causal but kind gesture.

“Thanks. You really didn’t have to do that.” you said as you wiped your mouth on the back of your hand.

“No problem. It’s not that big of a deal.” he said, flashing you a gentle smirk.

Your cheeks fully blush as you smile up at him.

Before leaving your room once more, Bucky set the empty bucket on your black bedside table.

As you were about to put your attention back onto your tv, your phone rang. You picked up your phone to see that your friend Natasha was calling you.

You quickly pressed accept and put your phone up to your ear. You began to chuckle as she droned on about the crazy night you all had and how bad her hangover was.

“Last night was fucking crazy!” her excited voice rang out through your mind.

Bucky smiled to himself as heard your laugh echo through a hallway nearby your bedroom. It was so pretty to him.

“Anyways I gotta go, I’ve got company. I’ll text you about this company though, if you know what I mean.” you said, cutting this phone call off short.

“I can’t wait!” she shouted.

You smirked at your phone as you hung up.

You:

So, my father hired this bodyguard for me and he’s like super fucking hot.

You bit your bottom lip between your teeth as you typed this out.

Natasha:

TELL ME MORE!!!

You softly laugh at her response.

You:

Well, I’ve been super hungover all day and he started to take care of me after he heard me throw up.

Soo here’s basically everything that’s happened, after he found me he scooped my body up into his arms and took me back to my bed. He then held my wrist in his hand as I took the medicine he brought over to me.

I don’t know though, maybe I’m just overthinking it.

Natasha:

You’re totally not overthinking it! I’d probably think the same if I were you. Hey, maybe he’s just old fashioned and likes to take things slow. Or maybe your father told him to take care of you whenever you’re sick. 🤷‍♀️

You:

Natasha!

Natasha:

What? I’m just being honest.

You rolled your eyes and huffed out a bit of air from your lungs, then threw your phone onto your other pillow.

You imagined what Bucky would look like, laying next to you. Subsequently after this, you knit your eyebrows up, attempting to not think about him in that way.

You then thought about what Natasha had said and the longer you thought about it, you realized that she was right.

She always was.

He was probably just being nice to you and you needed to make sure that you didn’t end up falling for him. Plus, you didn’t want to get your heartbroken, especially by someone who literally works for your father.

You felt so conflicted as well as stupid at the same time even though you and Bucky had no relationship to begin with.

You were definitely overthinking it.

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skullrock · 4 years

Text

the captain

pairing: Steve x Hagan!Reader

request: Can I please request a fluffy fic where Steve falls for Tommy H’s sister? She stops by Scoops Ahoy to buy ice cream and they go all “Oh, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other” kind of? I love your writing so much 🥺

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Steve being Big Idiot, mentions of T*mmy H*gan

a/n: tommy’s party by peach pit intensifies in my head

===

“We’re out of sea-berry.”

Robin doesn’t look up from her book. “What?”

Steve grabs the empty container from the display case and nearly chucks it in her direction. “We - are out - of sea-berry.” He chucks it dramatically into the trash and throws his hat on the counter, then leans forward to rest his head in his hands.

“Steve, it’s just ice cream,” Robin says. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I am having a bad day.”

Robin’s brows knit together. “Because we’re out of sea-berry?”

“It’s not about the ice cream, Robin,” he says, lifting his head to glare at her. “It’s about working at a shitty minimum wage job with this stupid hat and my arms hurt from scooping stupid ice cream for stupid customers.”

Robin puts her book down and sighs, hopping off the counter. She claps Steve’s shoulder and he bristles at the feeling. “Hey, slinging ice cream isn’t stupid.”

“Oh?” he asks. “In this - in this costume?” Steve tugs at his shirt. “You don’t think this job is stupid?”

Robin winces. “Spoiled,” she mumbles, and leans against the back counter. “How’s the girl thing coming along?”

Steve sighs loudly, dramatically, and leans against the cooler, back to the seating area. “How do you think?”

“I haven’t kept track today, but knowing your record, not good.”

“I give up!” he cries out, throwing his hands up. “I give up. The - the - God or whatever - wants me to suffer. I am fruitless.” He stares at the ground and crosses his arms. “My dad’s trying to teach me a lesson on being responsible and the universe is trying to teach me a lesson on being - I don’t know.”

“Not an asshole?”

Steve winces now, eyes trained on his shoelaces. “Yeah, maybe.”

Robin sighs, feeling some pity for the boy in front of her. “Look, you only have a few more hours, okay? Just make it til then.”

Just make it til then. Steve can do that, he thinks.

And then you come into the store.

Steve does a double take, looking up from the to-do list he’s reading for the fiftieth time that day. His brows furrow and he goes a bit slack-jawed, shocked to see you. He hadn’t seen you in forever - since junior year, at least. He hadn’t even thought about you; Tommy and all things related had been forcefully eradicated from his mind. But he knows you from anywhere - knows the freckles and hair, knows your smile. Knows the laugh you share with a friend before you walk into the store, alone, playing with your wallet.

Steve continues to stare with his mouth agape as you approach, and you also do a double-take. You remember Steve - of course you remember Steve. He was all you thought about while Tommy was close with him. You’d begged your brother two things your whole life - to stop being a dick and to get Steve to go on a date with you.

Of course, he did neither.

But you’re grown up now, more confident and less desperate for a date. Still, despite the growth, you’re completely smitten. Steve’s even cuter now, has grown into himself. His hair, salon-highlighted, bounces as you both make eye contact. You remember the moles on his neck, his hands, his eyes - god, his eyes, warm and brown and always kind even when Steve wasn’t. And he was kind, to you, at least. You could always see past the bullshit facade. You knew who he was, deep down. You knew him as a quiet boy at the pool, the one who said please and thank you to your mother, the one who shoved Tommy when Tommy was mean to you. He always wanted to make you laugh, no matter what. You just felt comfortable with him.

You realize at this point that you’ve stopped walking and you blush as your feet begin to work again.

“Look who it is,” you say, smiling widely. “The one that got away.”

Steve smiles despite not understanding the joke. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Steve.”

“Been a long time,” he says, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah.” You smile sadly. “Tommy wouldn’t tell me what happened. I just knew I wasn’t going to see you anymore.”

Steve stiffens a bit at the mention of Tommy, but he shrugs a shoulder. “Well, you know -”

“I do know,” you say. “I wish I could lose Tommy and Carol.”

“I guess I got lucky, huh?”

“Yeah, guess you did,” you say, eyes trained on his. “And I got unlucky. I missed you.”

Steve perks up a bit, but his brows twitch together. “You missed me?”

“I - yeah,” you stutter, blushing. “Yeah. You were always cool and nice to me.”

Steve’s smile widens and he leans against the counter, clasping his hands together. “Yeah? Well, maybe I missed you, too.”

“Really?”

“You were fun,” he says, “and I think we connected because deep down, we both hated your brother.”

“And Carol.”

“And Carol,” he laughs. “God, remember when they made me have a pool party? And you and I went inside and played Monopoly for hours while they made out at the pool?”

You laugh, too. “Jesus Christ, your pool probably has mono.”

“Probably.”

You both stare at each other a little longer before you clear your throat. “So - ice cream? What do you recommend? I’ve never been here.”

“Lucky you,” he says, straightening. “Well, we’re out of sea-berry -”

Robin sighs behind him and he turns to glare at her, not enjoying the audience, but whips back around to you. “But we have other flavors.”

“Oh, boy,” you say, your smile starting to hurt your face. “Lay ‘em on me.”

Steve takes you through each flavor, dramatically reciting what they are and what the selling point is, handing you a small spoon for each one. You really don’t care to taste them all, but you care about talking to him - you care about your fingers brushing every time he hands you a sample, how his eyes light up when he laughs, how dorky he looks and sounds.

“We also have sundaes and stuff,” he says, “which I can also attempt to sell to you.”

“Do you make this much of an effort every time you make a sale?”

“No, just for you.”

You both blush but the smiles stay, and Robin is nearly gagging behind Steve because it’s frankly disgusting to watch straight people flirt.

“What do you usually get?” you ask. “I think I trust your judgement.”

“I don’t give this place my money,” he says, “but when I steal, I always get the USS Butterscotch.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What is it called?”

“Look, I didn’t name it!”

You laugh. “I bet you didn’t pick your uniforms, either.”

Steve snorts. “No way, I’d pick something much nicer -”

“What, like a pastel striped polo?” Robin quips from behind him.

Steve whips around again and opens his mouth to retaliate, but you say, “I think it looks good on you.”

He turns to look at you, head inclined as if to say yeah, right. “No, I look stupid.”

“No!” you protest. “It’s really nice. The color is nice on you.”

Steve can’t stop the blush that creeps onto his cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You think?”

“Yeah,” you say casually. “And it really shows off your arms and legs.”

At this point, Robin gets up and walks to the back, leaving you and Steve alone. Finally.

“What about my arms and legs needs shown off?” he asks.

You roll your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

“Like I don’t know what?”

“That you’re cute.”

Had Steve been drinking, he would have done a spit-take.

“I mean - like - uh. Like - you’re - conventionally. Attractive,” you add, anxiety gripping your veins. “Like. You know.”

Steve smirks. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” you say, leaning across the cooler to tug on his ascot. “You know you’re attractive. That was your one personality trait.”

Steve pouts. “Hey -”

“I’m kidding,” you say, pushing him a bit before leaning back to your side of the cooler. “I’d like a - whatever you said earlier.”

Steve whips his scooper out and twirls it in his hand before getting to work. You smile as you wait, watching him do everything very dramatically and with flair. He turns and produces the concoction to you, gesturing towards it theatrically before handing it to you.

“How much?” you ask, reaching for your wallet again.

“No way,” he says, crinkling his nose. “You’re not paying.”

Your shoulders drop and you frown. “Steve, come on -”

“It’s on me. I like to steal from this place.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Like Robin Hood.”

“Sure,” he says, not knowing who that is. “Like Robin Hood.”

“This better be good,” you say. “Because I’m not coming back if it sucks.”

“That’s too bad,” he pouts, leaning against the cooler. “I guess that means I’ll have to see you outside of work, then.”

You raise a brow and smile, grabbing the spoon in your dish. “Let’s see.”

You slowly take a bite. It’s actually pretty good, but you want to see Steve somewhere else.

“It sucks,” you say. “Worst thing I’ve ever had.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “I guess that means I’ll have to meet you at the movies tomorrow at eight?”

“I guess so,” you say, trying to suppress a smile. “What a bummer.”

Steve smiles fondly. “What a bummer.”

After a few moments of intense eye-contact, the bell at the counter rings, signifying Erica Sinclair’s entrance. Steve sighs and grits his teeth, looking back at you with a sympathetic smile. “I’m very glad you came in here.”

“Me too,” you smile. “Tomorrow? Eight? Movies.”

“Tomorrow, eight, movies,” he repeats, nodding, and you smile wider at how his hair bobs over his forehead as he does.

“Sailor Man!”

“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, sending you one last smile before going towards the register.

===

“That was so gross,” Robin scoffs. “You guys - ugh. For fifteen minutes!”

Steve smugly smiles at her. He walks towards her board and grabs her marker, dramatically drawing a ‘I’ on his side of the board. “I rule.”

“This time,” Robin says, unable to hide her smile. “This time, you rule.”

===

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot

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endless-whump · 4 years

Text

Simon/Oliver: Broken

CW: triggered whumpee, food trigger, referenced emeto, references to box boy whump, creepy whumper, ptsd, self blaming, self deprecating thoughts, panic attack, conditioning

Masterlist

y'all getting TWO WHOLE FICS TONIGHT

Note: Takes place right before Trust, a crossover between Simon/Oliver and Marcus/Luca

----

Broken

That's the best word Oliver could seem to come up with to describe himself. Even after he was home, he was safe, he was confident Simon wasn’t leaving him, he couldn’t stop himself from cracking and crumbling into a million pieces, unable to let himself surface.

He felt like he was drowning, falling into depths he couldn’t even see, unable to reach out and grasp hold of anything for support. He could barely close his eyes without seeing him, seeing sir.

He felt sick whenever they tried to get him to take the medicine, images burned into his mind of men holding him down and forcing him to take pills, keeping him docile when Cedric wanted to bring him out for some fun. They made him barely cogerient, and by the time they put him back in the dark room he didn’t even remember leaving in the first place. Maybe it was better that way, though. Maybe it was best if he didn’t remember what happened outside that room.

He clung to Simon whenever he could, glued to his side in fear of being pulled away. He never, never wanted to be pulled away like that again. He didn’t even care if Simon hurt him again. As long as he didn’t have to go back.

Simon seemed to accept it, and seemed to be comfortable with Oliver becoming his shadow again after that night they confronted in the hallway. Everyone in the house seemed to come to a silent agreement that they wouldn’t talk about Simon's outburst, or anything spoken that night, and Oliver was completely ok with that.

“Peach or lemon?” Simon asked softly, metal spoon clinking against the mug on the counter.

Oliver stood by his side, a thin finger hooked on Simon's shirt as they stood in the kitchen. It was early, Oliver had woken up with nightmares again. Simon had brought him downstairs as quietly as he could, murmuring reassurances and moving to make him something that would calm him down.

“Lemon.” He replied softly, resting his head against the other's shoulder. Simon hummed in acknowledgment, grabbing the box and rummaging through it for the right kind, and Oliver couldn’t help but notice his hands shaking.

“I’ll take care of it.” Marie offered softly, moving to take the mug from Simons shaking hands. Oliver hadn’t even noticed her in the kitchen, flinching a little at the sudden voice beside them.

Simon didn’t even argue, letting her pry the mug away from him. He was tired too, and they all knew it. Oliver felt guilt twist inside him at the thought, knowing he was the cause.

Simon muttered his thanks, guiding Oliver to sit at the table with him, resting his forehead on his arms crossed on the table. Oliver watched him intently, fingers tapping at his leg nervously. Simon was spending all his time taking care of him, staying up when he couldn’t sleep, there when he woke up yelling. He was always there, and Oliver was starting to wonder if that was a good thing.

He reached a hand out hesitantly, setting it on Simon's arm. He startled a little, blinking as he looked up, worried.

“Sorry- did you need something, Ollie?”

Oliver retracted his hand immediately, face falling. He felt like he was shriveling up, cracked pieces falling from where he’d clumsily tried to put them back together.

“I..no..no sorry, was trying to..nevermind, sorry.”

He was trying to be comforting.

Instead he just bothered Simon more. Maybe it would be best if he just didn’t try at all.

If Simon noticed anything wrong he didn’t mention it, dropping his head back down in his arms. Oliver bit his lip, resolving to leave him alone. He needed the rest and the break from taking care of him.

“Here you go, Oliver.” Marie said kindly, setting the finished mug in front of him. “Make sure you and Simon have something to eat later, I’m going back to bed.” He blinked, looking up at her and forcing a small smile.

“Thanks.” he murmured, picking it up and bringing it to his lips to sip at it as she ruffled his hair, making her way back towards the stairs with a yawn. It was warm, the sweet tanginess of lemon flavor being the first thing to hit him. The second thing to hit him almost made him gag.

Oliver froze, stomach twisting as the taste hit him, disgust and terror seizing him and making him go still.

Honey.

She’d put honey in it.

Simon knew not to put honey in it, he knew- but Simon hadn’t made it. Marie did. Marie didn’t know.

His hands shook slightly as his eyes went blank, breaths coming in quiet, pained gasps.

He wasn’t with sir, he tried reminding himself, failing. He could almost still feel the hand on the back of his neck, sliding across his throat and up to tilt his chin, delicate china forced to his lips. He could feel the hand on his leg, the collar tightened around his throat, the pleased hum right next to his ear.

He wanted nothing more than to hurl the mug across the room, watch it shatter against the wall. He wanted it as far away from him as possible, wanted to disobey, to say no.

He knew he couldn’t, though. He couldn’t force himself to throw the mug even if it was what he wanted most in this god forsaken world. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, unable to even bring it away from his lips or even make a sound, Simon falling asleep next to him, oblivious.

There was only one thing he coulddo in that moment, and that was obey.

So he drank the whole thing.

He drank it silently, tears running down his face as he tried to hold back sobs, using two hands to make sure he didn’t drop the mug as it shook in his hands. He drank the entire fucking thing, and then stumbled to the bathroom to throw it all up.

---

Simon groaned, looking up from where he’d dozed off at the table. How long had he been asleep? It was lighter outside, sunlight illuminating the kitchen through the blinds on the windows.

The first thing he noticed was that Oliver was gone. His brain seemed to be processing everything too slowly, it taking a second to even register that the younger boy wasn’t next to him.

He stood quickly, blinking away the remaining sleep and scanning the room. Oliver’s mug of tea was at the table where he’d been sitting, empty. The kitchen was quiet, no sign of him anywhere. Simon was moving past the counter to check the living room when he spotted the small, plastic container of honey next to the box of tea packets, and his heart sank.

“Ollie?”

He went straight to the bathroom, testing the handle and thankfully finding it unlocked. He gently pushed the door open, being met with exactly what he was expecting. Oliver was hunched over, shaking with sobs as he pressed his forehead against the edge of the bathtub.

He felt guilty as he moved to crouch beside him, setting a hand carefully on his back. He should have been paying attention, he let Marie make the tea without it even crossing his mind to let her know.

Oliver flinched away, curling in on himself at the touch and close to hyperventilating.

“Hey, it's me.” Simon soothed. “I’m so sorry, Oliver. I was tired and got careless-”

“I,I,I’m sorry.” Oliver choked out, surprising Simon. “M,Msorry for waking you up, I, I’m sorry..”

Simon blinked, brow furrowing in confusion. He grabbed a washcloth and wet it in the sink, wiping the sweat from his forehead and setting it around the back of his neck to soothe him.

“Ollie, you didn’t do anything wrong- here, let's get you to the couch.”

Oliver braced himself against the side of the tub and tried to stand but Simon didn’t let him, knowing better than to let him try to walk and end up passing out after working himself up this bad. He picked him up as carefully as he could, the boy light enough to be carried with ease even in Simon’s tired state.

“N,No-” He protested weakly, shaking his head even as his eyes struggled to stay open. “You..you were asleep, didn’t mean to, to wake you up..mfine..”

Simon sighed, holding him close as he walked to the living room. There were two new rescues curled up on the armchair together, sound asleep. Mia and Marie had picked them up over an hour away, something about the police being involved. He couldn’t imagine how, the two looking so young.

“You didn’t wake me up, I did on my own. Didn’t even hear you until I went looking.” Simon reassured. He grabbed a water bottle, sitting down on the couch and offering it to him. “Drink some, you’ll feel better. Promise.”

Oliver took the water without question, shakily opening it and lifting it to his lips, drinking desperately. He looked pale, and Simon didn’t have to think hard about it to guess he’d gotten sick. He finally handed it back once it was half empty, and Simon set it aside.

“Look, if you’re worried about me getting sleep, we can go right back to sleep here.”

He laid down on his back, settling Oliver on top of him as he pulled a large blanket over the both of them. He rubbed circles against his back comfortingly, coaxing him to relax, head resting by his collarbone.

“Just let yourself calm down, ok? You’re right here, you’re safe.”

The last thing Simon needed was Oliver working himself up over him of all things. He didn’t deserve that kind of guilt for being taken care of.

“You deserve to feel safe, Oliver.” He hummed, staring up at the ceiling. “You deserve to be taken care of. You’re not a burden to take care of.”

He wasn’t sure if the words meant anything, but he needed to say them. He needed Oliver to know he wasn’t a burden.

“I’m ok, Oliver. I get tired sometimes, but that's not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

He ran his fingers through Oliver’s hair, feeling tears soaking through his shirt but not commenting on it. He was very, very familiar with the kind of guilt weighing down on you when you felt weak, when you felt like you were just dragging people down. The kind of guilt that made you suffer in silence, a scream for help never being allowed to reach your lips as you try to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible.

Oliver was the last person on earth who deserved that.

Simon pressed a kiss to his dark hair, repeating it over and over.

“You deserve to feel loved,”

After months of darkness and pain and fear, that's all he deserved

“You deserve to feel safe and protected,”

After he failed Oliver again and again and again, Simon owed that to him

“You aren’t bothering me,”

Never. He’d go to the moon and back for him

“I love you so, so much, Ollie, and you deserve every bit of it.”

Every single bit, and he meant it with everything he had

----

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#whump #angst #box boy universe #panic attack #conditioning #hurt/comfort #ptsd #food trigger #Marie is trying her best ok #creepy whumper #flashbacks #referenced emeto tw #Simon/Oliver #my oc's #my writing #box boy #I need to get better at tagging

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

SOS Drabbles: Take Two and Call Me In the Morning

Note: Actually, take three.

Like everyone else in the world right now, I'm stuck at home with my anxiety dancing around like oil on a hot skillet. Aside from everything else, it's affecting my writing and so, I decided I was going to make this collection of drabbles and just try to have some fun. Not stress too much about making them perfect or agonizing over titles, nothing but enjoying.

Thanks for reading this series as long as you have, everyone, I really appreciate it and I love sharing it with you all

So, here’s three drabbles for our boys. Enjoy!

Part of the ‘By Any Other Name’ series

Read them on AO3

Read them here!

~~*~~

Chapter 1: Boo-boos

The front door opening was unexpected, but Edge finished wiping off the shelf he was dusting before he spoke.

“You weren’t outside for long—” Edge began, turning to look. The rest of the words froze on his tongue, hastily discarded for, “What happened??”

“it’s not that bad,” Stretch tried even as Edge rushed to his side, hands hovering over his husband as he tried to decide where to start. There were scrapes and bruises blossoming on his bones from the crown of his skull all the way down to the torn-out knees of his pants. Beads of marrow were welling up and was that a tiny piece of gravel nearly embedded into Stretch forehead?

“Your definition of not that bad could use some work!” Edge snapped as he helped Stretch over to the sofa and what a pair they made, Stretch wounded and him with his leg still in a walking cast, both of them limping along in the world’s worst three-legged race.

Stretch made a feeble noise of protest as Edge pushed him down. “i’ll mess up the cushions!”

“I’ll worry about that later.” Edge shifted to sit on the coffee table across from his husband, absently noting the faint tremble in his hand as he lightly touched the worst scrape. Stretch was right, it really wasn’t that bad, but seeing his love hurt when not twenty minutes ago he’d been cheerily running out the front door left him a little shaken.

Stretch only sat and allowed Edge to check him over, obediently tipping his skull this way and that as Edge scrutinized the injuries. “There’s no cracks,” Edge said at last. “Only a few scrapes.”

“see, i told you—” Stretch trailed off as Edge swung a Look at him. “babe, I’ll be fine.”

“You will,” Edge agreed, stripping off his gloves. He gingerly settled a hand over the nasty scrape on Stretch forehead, felt the dampness of marrow smearing his palm. He took a long, slow breath, let it out. Healing magic still didn’t come easily to him, but Stretch couldn’t heal himself and he wasn’t about to let his love suffer even from little hurts. Nor was he going to call Blue over something so minor. He could do this.

He closed his sockets, focusing. Under his hand, he felt Stretch wince as his hand heated with green magic, but when Edge opened his sockets and removed his hand, the only thing left of the wound was the dappled spots of marrow.

He leaned down to start on Stretch’s scraped knees. “Were you going to tell me what happened?”

From the way Stretch was squirming, Edge guessed he was hoping he’d forgotten that part of the question.

Finally, Stretch sighed. “okay, so, i was outside playing with the kids.”

“yes, with the other twelve-year olds, go on.”

“and oscar brought along his skateboard."

Edge paused. “You didn’t.”

A ruddy flush rose in Stretch’s cheek bones, blotchy and orange. “i wasn’t that bad at it!”

“All the evidence indicates otherwise.” Edge shook his head. He loved his husband with every pulse of his soul, but he truly was one of the least coordinated Monsters he’d ever met. Bad depth perception did not make for grace.

“yeah, well,” Stretch slumped back against the sofa cushions. “i was doing okay but there was a hole in the road and i couldn’t figure out how to turn.”

“I see.” Edge laid a gentle hand on each of Stretch’s knees and focused. “And it didn’t occur to you to shortcut away?”

“sure it did,” Stretch gasped, trying not to squirm away from the heat of the healing. ”after i hit the ground.”

“Hm.” Knees healed, Edge leaned back and looked Stretch over critically. The worst of the bruises were fading and the rest could heal on their own. He plucked a tissue from the box on the table and dabbed away the drying marrow on Stretch’s forehead, then leaned in to press a light kiss to it. “There, all better.”

“thanks, doc,” Stretch gave him a lopsided smile, “gonna kiss all my boo-boos?”

“Of course,” Edge told him with all seriousness.

Stretch’s smile widened and he pointed at his mouth, “think i got one right here.”

His soft laughter was caught against Edge’s mouth as he kissed him, melting into a sigh. There was a particular sort of healing in a kiss, one not for the bones but for the soul, and Edge was going to give his love as many as he could.

-fin

Chapter 2: Preservation

Of all the love affairs in Stretch’s life, the one that endured the longest, through all the best and worst of times, was his deep, unbidden affection for junk food.

Look, he loved Edge’s cooking, seriously, he really did. When his baby really got going, he sure knew how to put on the Ritz, whether it was muffins or meatloaf, stirring up pancakes or a pan sauce, it was always delicious.

But man, sometimes you gotta have a different kind of Ritz, the cracker kind. Sometimes the craving for artificial yellow #5 couldn’t be denied and Stretch had a stash of goodies hidden away in the pantry, back behind the bags of whole wheat flour and sugar that Edge kept on hand.

Today there was a Twinkie calling his name and Stretch was going for it. First, he needed an alibi and one came to him in the form of a Netflix, watching while lying innocently on the sofa while Edge went through his weekend laundry routine. He waited for the basement door to close behind him and that was when his plan came into play.

First, a shortcut into the kitchen so there were no suspicious footsteps leading in. Next, a quick scramble into the pantry where he promptly knocked two cans off the shelf, catching them before they hit the ground with a desperate skill he couldn’t have replicated on a bet. He set the cans carefully back on the shelf and crouched down, reaching behind the bags and feeling around for his stash. At first there was nothing and then just as panic was setting in, the crinkle of cellophane.

“gotcha,” Stretch murmured. He pulled it out and there it was in all its golden glory. The Twinkie, golden sponge cake and cream, along with enough preservatives to mummify a cat, if anyone was inclined to go the old Egypt. He opened the wrapper, inhaling the sweet aroma of monoglycerides and high fructose corn syrup.

The taste was even better, pure chemical bliss and Stretch moaned as he chewed, damn, this was the shit and—

“What are you doing?”

It came from directly behind him and in a moment of panic, Stretch crammed the whole thing in his mouth, wrapper and all, frantically licking his teeth clean before turning to look at Edge. Who was looking down at him suspiciously, crimson eye lights narrowed.

“nuffin!” Stretch burbled as he scrambled to his feet, trying to keep a burst of crumbs from coming out with the words. Desperately, he swallowed, holding back a gag with sheer willpower as the cellophane incorporated into his magic along with the poor, abused Twinkie. Ah, well, it died as it lived. Unhealthily. That problem handled, he tried again, brightly, “nothing!”

Edge nodded slowly. “Just felt like crawling around on the pantry floor for no good reason?”

If there was no other route, the path of righteous indignation was always there. “yeah, so? i don’t make fun of your hobbies.”

“You absolutely do.”

Yeah, that defense wasn’t gonna fly, he teased Edge about his action figures all the time. “okay, i do, but it’s done with affection!”

That suspicious look finally eased, and Edge leaned up to give him a light peck on the mouth, murmuring as he drew back, “Yes, it is. Well, don’t let me interrupt you.” He turned and walked back out of the pantry and just as Stretch was relaxing, he called back, “You might want to brush your teeth when you’re done if you want any other kisses. I’ve never cared for the taste of preservatives.”

Stretch whipped around to stare at him, that preservative-flavored mouth of his dropping open, but Edge only raised a brow bone at him and closed the door behind him. He stared for a long moment and then he could only laugh, crouching down to dig out another Twinkie so he could get his junk food fix without the extra aftertaste.

Did he say his longest love affair was with junk food? That might be true enough, but the love he felt for his husband left it behind in sugary, crumb-filled dust.

-fin

Chapter 3: Egg-splanations

Stretch was only a couple of steps past the sliding glass door when he screeched to a halt, walking backwards until he could look outside again, just to verify that he’d actually seen that.

Yep. That was what he thought he’d seen.

Edge was out in the backyard with the chickens, standing with one hand on his hip and with the other shaking a finger sternly at Nugget. Who was looking up at him, her little head cocked to the side as if she was taking in every word.

Okay, yeah, this needed some context. But first…

Stretch dug out his phone and took a picture, quickly setting it as his phone background before he opened the sliding glass door.

“…so you can’t keep doing this!” Edge was saying. “The fence is not there only to hold you in, it’s for your own protection!”

Nugget replied with a series of inquisitive clucks, wandering closer to Edge and looking up at him hopefully.

“No. You stop that,” Edge told her sternly. “I can’t carry you around all the time while I’m out here, I am working on the gardens beds. You realize that’s to your benefit as well, you all loved the seed plants from last year.”

“Mrrrp?”

That stern expression wavered and finally Edge sighed, crouching down and gently running a hand over Nugget’s back. “You have two minutes,” he told her. “And you can stay out of the pen while I am working, but after that, you need to go back in, do you understand?”

Edge seemed to take her happy clucks as agreement. He settled down to sit on the grass, stretching out his splinted leg with a groan. Stretch leaned against the closed door and watched him for a moment, a smile playing on his mouth. His big, tough Underfell husband, gently petting an adoring, crooning chicken. If only the Embassy could see him now.

He gave it another minute before calling out, “that’s telling her, babe. i swear, chickens these days need round the cluck supervision.”

Edge didn’t look up, only scratched Nugget gently under her chin while she closed her eyes in blissful euphoria. “You aren’t funny.”

“baby,” Stretch sighed, shaking his head in dismay. “i keep telling you, i’m not only funny, i’m clucking hilarious. a real comedi-hen.”

Edge rolled his eye lights and was that the faintest hint of a smile curving his mouth, hell yes, it was. “Yes, and I’m one bad mother clucker.”

“now you’re getting it. hate having to egg-splain it all the time.” Stretch walked over and sank down to sit behind Edge with one long leg on either side of him, settling his chin on his shoulder as he snuggled in. “love you, baby. i’ve fowl-len under your spell, no yolking around. love you so much, honestly.” He settled a hand on Edge’s unbound knee, smooth it down his inner thigh. “plus you’ve got a big co—”

“All right,” Edge interrupted, jabbing him lightly with his elbow. “that’s enough.”

“heh. if you say so.” He pressed a kiss against Edge’s cheek bone and lingered there, nuzzling that angular line, “can’t help thinking about it, though, you so close and all.”

Edge only gave Nugget another scratch and said coolly, “I’m sure. You’ll excuse me if I'm distracted by a different little pecker.”

A pause, then Stretch burst out laughing, pressing a harder, messier kiss against his skull, “that was a good one, you shit.”

Edge craned his head around to look at him and that faint, impish smile belonged only to Stretch, no one else. “What’s the matter, love? Out of puns already?”

“nah,” Stretch murmured. He cupped Edge’s face in one hand, thumb stroking the line of his jaw. “but talk is cheep.”

"Don't worry," Edge told him hoarsely. Neither of them paid Nugget desolate clucks any mind as he tipped his head up into the kiss, “you can wing it.”

-fin

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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cait-with-luv · 4 years

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J.JK Soul Ink - Chapter 06

Previous | Next

¬ CRZY - Kehlani

"Wait, wait, wait, so you're telling me, that you seven are a mafia gang called Bangtan,"

"Yes".

"And that my father is a mafia leader, trying to kill Jungkook and that my best friend is also apart of the mafia and that his father is allied with mine,"

Yoongi shrugs, "Pretty much".

You let out a laugh of disbelief and throw yourself back on the motel bed you were sat on and run your hands over your face trying to let what they're telling you sync in.

"This is fucking insane. How is my life this fucked up, what did I do in my past life to deserve this, Christ on a bike, can this get any worse?"

"Most likely".

"You're not helping," You groan at Yoongi, making them laugh lightly. You sit up to look at the boys and you finally notice the states they are on from the car shoot down. Taehyung had a cut under his eye from the glass breaking, his hair disheveled along with the rest of them. Namjoon had cuts on his forehead and cheek, Yoongi had a cut along his nose, Jungkook, well, the only injury he had was caused by you and Jimin and Jin seemed to be completely unharmed due to the short amount of time they had in action.

"You know, you're taking this quite well, I was expecting you to tell us we're insane or scream at us". Jimin says crossing his arms. You shrug slightly,

"There's no point in me screaming, it won't change anything. I always knew something was dodgy about my father anyway".

They all look at each other surprised but then they take in your figure, you looked exhausted. It was clear you were done with what life was throwing your way, and to be honest, with what they have seen you have to live with so far, they don't blame you one bit.

"Why do you want me with you anyway?" You ask, snapping them out of their trance. Namjoon takes a seat in front of you and gives you a small smile before explaining,

"Your father is no ordinary mafia leader like me or any other leader, we're brutal I'll admit that, but your father is a monster, he doesn't play the rules that have been set down for mafia leaders. He's trying to start a gang war between Bangtan and his gang just because we keep our identities hidden. He wants Jungkook dead because his father knocked him down the hierarchy when he started to become dirty, doing foul play, killing innocents just for the fun of it. Jungkook is the only Jeon remaining, meaning he could easily go to the top of the hierarchy if he wanted to and I wouldn't stop him,"

He stops and looks around at the anxious people around him taking the looks in their eyes. Anger. Fear. Pain. He looks back to you and your staring at him with a unknown look,he continues,

"Bangtan are the top dogs right now and he doesn't like that knowing Jeon Jungkook is apart of it. Like I told you he's a monster, human trafficking, ripping families apart, raping poor women who fall into his traps etcetera. We're no angels don't get me wrong we have done some sins and we continue to do them because it's just our lifestyle, but we could never harm an innocent being, but Beom-Seok, he's inhumane, he's no sinner, he's the devil in disguise. Willing to tear apart anything limb from limb until he's satisfied, he's not just power hungry, but addicted to shedding blood just for the fun of it, every single one of us in this room are a victim to his ways and we want him gone. We want you with us because we know you wouldn't want to submit to his ways, to be brainwashed by him, we're protecting you in all honesty, and we know you have never had a bond with him. Please help us fall into the palm of our hands to make him feel what we felt when he ripped our families away from us, we know he'll come after you at all costs Y/N".

You stare in shock, the pigment in your face decreasing at every second. You felt sick to your stomach, your mouth went dry. You were disgusted to even think that at the thought of even being related to that devil. You no longer even considered him a father, no, he was far from it. You began to picturing all the screaming of all the people he killed or damaged, his evil laughter echoing as he watched his chaos he caused enjoying every second of it. Your heart was in pounding in your chest from anxiety, your throat felt tight staring at all the faces in front of you. Each one of these people were a victim to him as well. You take a breath in and whisper out,

"W-what did he do to you guys?"

They all look at each other nervously but reluctantly allow themselves to tell how they had fell victims. Namjoon went first,

"He killed my sister right in front of me when I was just 14, we were orphans".

"Set fire to my family home and watch as my family perished, I escaped through the back but I have a scar on my back to permanently remind me of that night, hearing my mom, dad and sister scream as they were engulfed in flames haunt me forever, I was 9". Hoseok says quietly.

"He locked my mother and father in a car and let it drive into a river and left them to drown, made me watch whilst he walked away laughing, I was 7". Jimin says eyes cold.

"It was just me and my father, my mom died when I was young, he killed my father 'for the fun of it', I was 16". Jin said looking down.

"Human trafficked my mom and sister, my father walked out, I was 11." Taehyung spits in anger.

"Left an explosive in my fathers office, killing him, my mother and elder brother, I was 17". Yoongi says bluntly not showing his emotion.

You turn to Jungkook who was glaring at the ground clearly suffering from the memories flashing through his mind. "I don't want to talk about it." He snaps and you nod curtly.

"I'm so sorry for what he has done to you guys". You whisper out guilt swallowing you up. You felt bile rise up your throat and you stand up abruptly gathering their attention,

"I'm gonna be sick".

You rush to the bathroom and throw yourself to the floor in front of the toilet and spew up the content of your stomach. You jump when you feel someone touch your shoulder and gather your hair away from your face.

"It's only me Y/N, it's okay, let it out". You hear Jimin mumble softly rubbing your back. You gagged slightly and coughed as you tried to stop yourself vomiting anymore, the burning feeling stop.

"It's the adrenaline coming down and your body has gone into shock from the sudden news, it's okay, don't hold it back, you'll make yourself worse".

You take a deep breath in when you feel like you've stopped and sighed closing your eyes. "Sorry you had to see that". You mumble. You look up and Jimin gives you a smile showing off the now noticeable smiley piercing.

"Don't worry about it, I threw up the first time I found out too and besides someone had to help you, the others may all look big and bad but when it comes to vomit...they're pussies". Jimin teases making you giggle.

"We heard that you fucker!"

Jimin throws his head back laughing stumbling slightly, he gains his stability and pulls out chewing gum and pops two into your hand.

"Here you'll probably want some, I'll let you clear yourself up". Jimin says walking out the bathroom. You pop the gum into your mouth letting the minty flavor take over in your mouth ad you turn to look at yourself through the mirror above the sink, biting your lip in frustration.

What do I do? Your father is not who he's made himself out to be. You've known these 7 boys less than 24 hours and they want your help to take down your own father, that's if you even considered him that now. After everything you've discovered that he has done, you don't know if you could breathe the same air as him let alone look him in the eye. Even someone you grew up with was lying to you, now you understood why he wanted you to stay away from them. To stop you finding out the truth.

You take a breath of courage and turn to walk out the bathroom. You knew what you had to do.

You walk out the bathroom and you stare at the 7 boys talking quietly between themselves until Taehyung nudges them when he spots you. They go silent staring at you noticing the determination on your and as if you were ready to speak. You look at them one by one and you stop at Jungkook staring him dead in the eye.

"I'll do it. I'll help you take down Beom-Seok". You say venom laced in your voice as you spoke your fathers name. You notice Hoseok and Taehyung shiver from your sudden hostility. Jungkook smirks at you and gives you a nod as if he's telling you he supports you.

They all give you a smile and Namjoon nods, "Okay, are you sure you want to do this? Once you start this, there's no going back you know that right?"

You nod in understanding. You knew what you were getting yourself into. You had to do this. For all the people he has hurt, including these boys in front of you. They needed justice. And you were going to give it to them.

"I'm changing this really morbid subject for right now because I have to ask this. How the fuck do you know how to drive like that?!" Jin exclaims the rest of them humming in agreement. You look down nervously before deciding to suck it up. You were gonna be stuck around these boys for god knows how long, you might as well let them get to know you and you hoped they were thinking the same thing.

"Instead of telling you, I'm gonna show you, when it turns 11 pm we leave this room and I'm gonna take you somewhere". You say.

"Oh no she's already betraying us. I'm calling it, she's gonna kill us." Jungkook cries out sarcastically. You glare at him crossing your arms. And the attitude was back. Taehyung groans and smacks his head against the wall.

"Please for Christ's sake don't start again now." He whines.

You bite your tongue and smile sarcastically at Jungkook, and stop yourself from retaliating for the boys sake. They're probably so tired of hearing you both practically rip into each other.

"Yeah dollface, let's not start again now". Jungkook smirks.

"Okay now you're just asking for it dickface". You snap.

"Fucking hell it's like watching two kids argue over candy. Just be civil with each other please? I swear to down I will rip my fucking hair out if you continue to go on like this". Yoongi groans.

You nod silently and sit down on the bed, pulling out your now debugged phone and began to ring the only friend you hoped you could trust,

"I'm going to make a phone call".

------

"You learnt your way of driving...here?"

You let out a small laugh at Hoseok's confusion and shake your head.

"No, this is the phone call I had to make, this is Irene's place, where I learnt to drive, we can't go dressed like this so I figured we'd stop here since no one involved with Beom-Seok knows she's even a friend of mine except Yixing, but he wouldn't come here, if you hadn't noticed, they don't get on. Irene is a self-employed fashion designer she'd have something for us to wear and I have clothes here that I'd need since I'm stuck with you guys until this is over, I can't exactly go back to my house".

They nodded staring at the house. You climb out the car and they pursuit. You walk up to the house and knock twice. You hear nothing so you continuously knock on the door.

"I'm coming! Shit! What you tryna do?! Put a hole in my door?!"

You hear Irene's muffled voice getting closer each word, the door swings open revealing a disheveled Irene, you let out a laugh as you notice her hair was no longer the onyx black it used to be but was now her least favourite color, hot pink, from the hair dye you had put in her shampoo the other day.

"Get your asses in here right now," Irene snaps. You all stumble in and she slams the door shut whilst you still laugh.

"This was your doing wasn't it you fucker?" Irene says glaring at you pointing at her. You gasp for breath and shrug,

"Possibly," You laugh out. She growls and slips off her slider and throw it at you but you quickly catch it throwing it back.

"I-I think you look really pretty". Taehyung stutters out from behind you, nervously. Hoseok nudges him teasingly and you smirk. Irene flushes at the compliment and looks down mumbling a 'thank you'. You turn your attention back to Irene,

"Consider it 1-1, payback for that time you crashed my car". You say raising an eyebrow.

"Fine, anyway I set your outfits out, follow me." Irene says walking up the stairs, you all follow her up them. She points to the room in front which was the guest room,

"Boys, this is where you'll get dressed, I put a name tag on your outfits, Y/N in my room".

You all split off into the rooms and Irene follows you into her bedroom slamming the door shut and turning to you with a bewildered look.

"What the hell is going on?! Why are you suddenly hanging around them?!" She whisper yells.

"It's a lot to explain right now but I need you to promise me one thing, if anyone and I mean anyone, that's including Yixing, comes around here asking if you've seen me or know where I am, you say no okay?" You say to her holding her shoulders and looking into her eyes to make sure she knows you're being serious. She nods quickly a worried look on her face.

"You said Yixing instead of Lay, he's done something, what's happened? Are you in danger?" She asks concerned. You pull your shirt off and pull the red crop top that lay on the bed for you.

"Something like that, I can't tell you anything I don't want to risk your life more than I already am right now, just Yixing isn't who we thought he was and neither is my father. I need you to promise me to not have any contact with me unless it's serious okay? The boys are helping solve this, I promise you, I'll contact you once this blows over okay? For now, please stay safe and try and distance yourself from Yixing." You explain as you pull on the shoes and let your hair down from the ponytail.

She nods worry in her eyes as the reality of the danger your in sinks in. You pull on the black bomber jacket and look at your friend who was sat at the edge of her bed tears in her eyes.

"Rene...why are you crying?" You ask sitting down next to her. She shakes her head sniffling,

"Just please be safe okay? You're all I have..."

Your eyes soften and you pull her into a hug pushing the feeling of awkwardness away knowing your friend needed this.

"I promise okay? You're stuck with me." You tease making her laugh and nod her head. She stands up and you follow, she grabs a duffel bag that was by her wardrobe and hands it to you.

"I had a feeling you'd need some stuff and I guess I was right, so I packed it with stuff you need, all your clothes you have here, makeup, toiletries, girl stuff and a few of my own personal touches in there just in case..." She smirks.

Oh no...

"Irene...what've you put in here?" You ask nervously.

"You'll just have to find out, open it later." She winks and walks out the room and down the stairs with you behind her. The boys stood in their new outfits, talking amongst themselves. They look up when they hear you both and their eyes widen when they notice you. You were wearing a red spaghetti strap bandeau crop top with a black jacket over the top, some black shorts showing off some of the healing ink and heeled boots.

"Fuck..." You hear Jungkook mumble to himself and then look away.

"Someone having a problem over there bud?" Taehyung teases earning himself a jabs to the ribs by Jungkook. Taehyung groans and holds his ribs and Jimin shakes his head, pushing himself between the two, to stop them attacking each other.

" We haven't got time for this, lets go". You say turning to Irene who throws some car keys at you.

"I thought you'll want your baby for tonight." She says walking to the door that lead to the garage. She flicks the light on revealing the black american muscle car that you loved dearly.

"Damn that's hell of a car". Hoseok says eyes wide staring at it. You hum in acknowledgement and pop the trunk open and place the duffel bag inside and closing it. You turn to the boys and smirk,

"So, who's riding with me?"

They all start bickering and playing a game of rock, paper, scissors; pushing Jungkook forward who smirks at you,

"Looks like you're stuck with me dollface".

You give him a sarcastic smile and walking over to him so your chest to chest and his breath hitches as you lean closer to his face as if you were about to kiss him, you let your lips slightly graze his before whispering,

"Nah, you're stuck with me".

You pull back smirking as you leave a frozen Jungkook in his place and walk over to your car,climbing in. The others snicker and Taehyung yells out,

"Goddamn, did it get hot in here or is it just me?"

"Shut up hyung". Jungkook snarls before climbing into the passenger seat of your car. Irene hands the other 6 boy, three pairs of keys to the other cars,

"Drive in twos, take your pick, all these are Y/N's so if you get a scratch on them, you'll die okay? I'll hid your car in the here for you." She says. They nod and pair up before running off to the cars and climbing into them. Irene bends down to your level of the car and gives a look of worry and protectiveness.

"You better fucking keep her safe Jeon Jungkook I swear to god if she has just so much as a scratch on her the next time I see her, I'll you okay? This bitch right here is like my sister and pretty much the only family I have". She lectures glaring at the boy beside you. He nods and gives her a smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

"You have my word Irene". He says determined. She nods and looks at you,

"You have a tendency of following danger so try to stay alive okay? You may be the strongest girl I've ever met but that doesn't make you invincible okay?" She says. You nod giving her a reassuring smile.

"Okay, you never seen me or these seven okay?" You say. She nods and pats the car letting you know you can go,

"I saw nothing, see you on the flip side". She smiles. You rev your engine and speed off down the road with three other cars following close behind you. You and Jungkook sat in silence for a while and he decided to break it.

"Was it really necessary to show us instead of tell us?" He asks looking at the street lights as you speed along. You chuckle and look at him slightly before focusing on the road again.

"Yeah, if I told you, you'd never believe me". You say. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Baby girl, we're the mafia, we've seen stuff that you'd not imagine, I'm pretty sure we'd believe you".

You breath out and shake your head at the nickname.

"Again with nicknames, will you ever cut it out?" You ask and he smirks shaking his head,

"Nah, I'm good".

You huff and ask, "Are you always this irritated?"

"Hmmm, everyone irritates me, don't take it to heart dollface". He says smirking letting his arm hang out the car window.

"Duly noted". You mumble to yourself as you pull up to the place. You look around noticing all the familiar cars and smile at the sound of cars revving and the laughter and music. You climb out the car along with Jungkook, just as the rest climb out. They look around in awe and Jimin eyes widen in realization of where you guys were,

"Wait...this is...-"

"Street racing, welcome to streets boys, this is my territory".

---------

Over 3k words.....

I hope I didn't ramble too much in this.

Here's some photos of what the boys were wearing at the end so you get an idea,

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savage-rhi · 4 years

Note

Ok so this one is pretty interesting, I would like to suggest :‘ no one in the history of torture has been tortured with the torture like the torture you’ll be tortured with. ’ for Higgs, you know I'm a sucker for whump Higgsy :') Thank you so very much Rhi, even the idea of your prompt excites me ! :)))

@argetlam007

FUCK YEAH HERE COME DAT ANGST BOYYYYYYY :D!

Higgs was writhing on a floor in a pool of his own blood, coughing and gagging. Weak moans and whimpers left his chapped lips as he arched his back in a useless attempt to get up to confront his attacker. He was met with another kick to the stomach as he yelled and tumbled onto his side.

Higgs’s body shuddered as his vision blurred. There was no doubt in his mind he had a black eye now, maybe two. He could taste blood on his tongue, the copper flavor running through the tiny gaps of his teeth as he tried to face his opponent only to get hit in the face. He spat bile out this time around before feeling his body levitate off the ground, his attacker grabbing him by the collar of his cape as he winced.

“No one in the history of torture has been tortured with the torture like the torture you’ll be tortured with.” The man said, his deep voice trickling with laughter as he canted his head, staring at Higgs like he was a bug that needed to be squashed after clipping its wings off one by one.

“Some Particle of God you are now hm? Do you think you decide everyone’s fate now that you’re powerless? I don’t think so. God, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. To finally avenge my family and everyone you bombed up in Central Knot.”

“F-fuck you.” Higgs managed to croak out, pissing off his captor further on as he was given an onslaught of punches. Higgs lost track of how many hits he had taken, but the room was becoming darker by the second. He could feel his back slam into something metal before he was strapped down. Growling, Higgs tried to break free as his attacker removed a knife from his person and didn’t hesitate to jab the weapon into one of Higgs’s fingers. Higgs screamed so loud that his own voice drowned in his ears as he could feel his fingernail being slowly ripped off from the root of his skin.

“You should have stayed in hiding, Higgs! Now you’re gonna suffer in silence like everyone you destroyed! No one’s coming to get you. No one’s gonna rescue a terrorist!”

It didn’t matter how many times Higgs said he had changed, nor did it matter he saved his attacker's life before the man found out who Higgs truly was. For the first time in his life since living with his daddy, Higgs thought he wasn’t going to survive. He was going to die alone in filth, covered in his own sweat and blood, and all thanks to him letting his guard down for one second. The shame of his vulnerability in the situation outweighed the excruciating pain his body was undergoing.

As he could feel the knife cutting into his palm, the pain suddenly came to a halt as Higgs’s attacker let out pained cries. There was a sound of something heavy meeting bone as squishy sounds could be heard followed by rough grunts and yells. Higgs at first thought his own limbs were being caved in, perhaps by someone else helping the attacker out, until it dawned on him, there was no way. He knew the attacker's voice so well that not even in this state Higgs would miss that distinctive yell.

There was an echo of wheezes, like air trying to escape a balloon followed by a putrid sound that Higgs could only compare to slitting someone’s throat. A silence filled the room as Higgs blinked, desperate to try to make out what was going on. Was there another enemy? Was this person going to finish what his captor started? He had a million scenarios go through his head until he blinked and suddenly was met with a familiar face staring down at him. Blood covered most of her face and hair as she panted heavily and got to work freeing Higgs of his bindings.

“Y-you--came for me?” Higgs couldn’t believe it. No, he couldn’t fucking believe it. After the huge fight Gene and he had, Higgs thought she’d be the last person who would be coming to the rescue.

Gene didn’t say anything as she got Higgs onto his feet, having him lean on her for support as she led him out of the darkness of the warehouse and into the light of the outside world. Shortly after, Higgs blacked out. Not able to go on.

When Higgs woke up hours later, he found himself wrapped in a blanket on top of a traveling mat. He felt filthy. His hair was matted in tangles, could feel grime and mud lodged into the crevices of his skin, his clothes torn and tattered, his skin blotched with bruises and other marks he didn’t want to acknowledge; Higgs was a mess. The weight of what happened fell upon his chest as he tried to rise, only to collapse back down from the pressure as he was once more met with Gene looking down at him.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty! How are you feeling?” Gene asked. Higgs was surprised her tone wasn’t condescending but concerned. He licked his lips and shut his eyes, letting out a tired groan.

“Like I got hit by a car. Then a guy tried curb stompin’ me after.” Higgs said weakly as Gene let out a laugh.

“You--mock my pain?” Higgs tried to counter with a weak chuckle as Gene shrugged, looking over his face.

“I laugh at everyone’s pain but my own. It keeps me sane.” Gene joked.

“Bad bitch. You’re fucked up, you know that?”

“So you’ve told me many times. I’m gonna lean you up just a bit.”

It’s not like Higgs could protest, so he allowed Gene to prop him up. He winced, feeling his lower chest tighten as she apologized in hushed murmurs then lied him down on her lap. Higgs’s eyes fluttered open and closed from time to time, torn between wanting to be awake and wanting to sleep off how horrible he felt.

“It’s gonna sting so brace yourself.” Gene forewarned, getting a cloth with medicine on it ready to dab over his busted face.

“What are you gonna--ow! Shit! Ow! Fuck--!” Higgs exclaimed, feeling a pulsating sting over his eye and nose as Gene wiped him down. He whimpered lowly against the material, his face tensing from the burning sensation as his skin went numb.

Higgs pried one eye open, staring up at Gene while she cleaned and tended to the injuries on his face. It seemed she had already gotten the others throughout his body. He could feel bandages and stitches all throughout his form. He hadn’t realized how skilled she was until looking downward at his left arm, seeing she performed a figure-eight stitch where the flesh had been cut wide open from his captor earlier on.

“What are you--” His voice hitched as Gene started feeling through his dirty hair and scalp, getting rid of debris and other specks of grime before running a comb through. He couldn’t understand for the life of him why she was going above and beyond, considering the shit he said to her. That weighed on his mind more so than his body crying out for something to make it better.

“You don’t have to do this,” Higgs said as Gene continued on, not saying a word to him. “Look--about what I said--about your folks--about you being a stupid cunt--”

“Higgs I don’t want to hear it.”

“But I--”

“Higgs.” Gene said firmly, stopping and staring him straight in the eyes. He almost lost all his resolve then.

“I don’t want to think about the fight or the shitty things we said to one another. I just want you to be okay.”

“What about--the cargo, the BT Plague?”

“That can wait. My first priority is you.” Gene said, the honesty and rawness in her voice taking Higgs by surprise. He went silent as Gene continued her ministrations, fixing him up the best she could with what little she had supply wise. Eventually, Higgs found himself settling into her touches, how she patched him up, how her fingers carded through his hair and scalp after all was said and done, trying to soothe him however she could.

“Did you kill the bastard?” Higgs asked, his voice hoarse as Gene simply nodded, tucking away a strand of hair from Higgs’s face.

“You okay--?” Higgs couldn’t help but wonder. Gene had killed people before on the job--being a porter it could happen, but he knew it was a rarity for her.

“You’re alive. So I’m okay.”

If Higgs weren’t a coward, if he wasn’t hurt, he would have leaned up right then and there to capture her mouth against his for everything she had put aside just to save his sorry ass, but being able to stare up at Gene while she tended to him was close enough to satisfy Higgs.

“This--probably won’t be the last time--someone tries to kill me for what I’ve done in the past.” Higgs confessed as Gene furrowed her brows.

“I’m aware of that.”

“You’re alright with this?”

Gene shrugged.

“If anyone’s gonna kill you, it's me. I have to travel with your sorry ass. Last I checked we’re friends and we're stuck together. We owe it to each other.” Gene joked, smirking as she laughed. Higgs’s laugh turned into a drawn-out cough as Gene rested her palm on his forehead while Higgs’s body eased itself.

“Easy. Shh. I got you.” Gene murmured. “Get better. I can’t make this journey on my own. Not without you.”

**A link to my ko-fi account. If you enjoy my content and want to support me getting my monthly medication for fibromyalgia and arthritis, I would be eternally grateful. It is NOT a requirement however! All my work is free to read!**

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theincompetentgenius · 5 years

Text

Chocolate (Hideyoshi x Reader Fic)

@pusec: Can I get a short scenario of MC accidentally calling Hideyoshi "mom"? (Ikemen sengoku//not sure if this didn't happen In canon already thought)😂

It’s probably happened before. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if she did and we just glazed over it because that’s what we were thinking ourselves. Also, I’m really for the chocolate obsession in this because I’m fasting so I’m REALLY HUNGRY (it makes up almost the entire fic and I realized it was getting out of hand, so I tried to save it at the end. But I doubt that really did anything). Anywho, enjoy this mess and I’m sorry in advance.

Title: Chocolate

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Hideyoshi x Reader

Word Count: 1857

If there was one thing I could change about the Sengoku Era, it would be the amount of chocolate that I could buy.

I know the history behind the scarcity of chocolate in Japan, but it doesn’t make it any less painful. Whenever my period comes around, I’m craving a good chocolate bar. If it’s more than 50 degrees, my tongue is ready for some creamy chocolate ice cream. My body has been suffering from chocolate withdrawal: my stomach is always growling, my head overrun with fatigue, and my mouth salivating for that sweet, milky taste. I think people have started to notice because Masamune has been making me a lot more sweets while Hideyoshi bought me the finest candies the other day. Nobunaga even offered me his konpeito. The treats were delicious, but I miss my wonderous chocolate. The only chocolate I’ve had was cacao beans shipped from who-knows-where. Those were disgusting.

So you can imagine my excitement when Hideyoshi told us that shipments of chocolate had arrived at the Japanese trading ports. They would be sending the delicacy to different vendors throughout the country in the upcoming weeks. I screamed so loud that Ieyasu’s ears nearly fell off and Masamune rushed to the meeting. Although I got scolded for my excitement, there was nothing that could ruin my joy. I would be reunited with my love and savior: chocolate.

Every week, I would drag a warlord out in the town to search for chocolate. However, most vendors had no idea what I was talking about and didn’t carry anything that looked like chocolate. One vendor sold me a brown, solid bar that looked like the real deal. It was expensive, but I had to get my hands on it. But the moment I bit into the bar, my tongue recoiled from the taste and my lips nearly fell off my mouth. I gagged. The schemer had sold me a bar of tamarind instead.

However, I haven’t given up on my quest to find the chocolate. Although I took a week-long break, I am back and stronger than ever. Nothing can stop m--

“What are you writing?” Hideyoshi points to my notebook.

I quickly shut the pages of my notebook and stuff it in my bag. If he saw my maniacal writing about chocolate, he’d keep me away from it and turn this whole thing into a Nobunaga-konpeito situation. It would ruin all of my plans.

“Just about how I’m excited to have chocolate. I like to write my feelings,” I give him a sheepish grin.

“That’s really cute, but why chocolate?” He laughs.

“What do you mean, ‘why chocolate?’ “ I ramble about my childhood stories and how chocolate has been a vital part of my life. It guided me through my struggles, brighten my dark days, and was present in all my nostalgic memories. Hideyoshi listened quietly, nodding and laughing throughout my stories.

“If it’s such a big part of your life, then why didn’t you tell me about it? I could have requested some from the traders,” He asked.

“I’ve been so caught with this adjusting to the new life that I almost forgot about it.” This was far from the truth, but I didn’t want to come off as a chocolate addict.

As we walk along the street, I notice the different vendors. Each makes profits from vastly different items. Fruits, weapons, rice, ornaments, and other assortments. Each stall is made out of birch wood, but that’s where the similarities end. One has vines coiling around the wooden columns, another one has splotches of dye on the stall, and the most bizarre of them all is the stall in yellow with green stockings hanging from the top. It is the weirdest combination of colors I have ever seen.

Hideyoshi approaches each vendor whether they have the candy or not. I don’t feel comfortable asking them ever since I got scammed with the tamarind bar. It’s probably for the best since they all give him salutes and offer him all their products at discounted prices and I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to haggle for even half those prices.

We come across the odd yellow-and-green stall that I was watching earlier. Hideyoshi asks the vendor the same set of questions and he shakes his head in the same manner as the ones before him. It’s become a routine. Instinctively, I turn around and walk towards the nearest stall when I hear Hideyoshi’s voice call out to me.

“Where are you going? They have the chocolate!”

I turn around and zoom to the front of the stall. It is impossible for me to confine my excitement in my head. Forgetting that I’m in the Sengoku Era, I begin to interrogate him about the different types of chocolates in his possession. Every time the vendor tries to speak, I cut him off and provide him with my preferences. If it was dark chocolate, I didn’t want to be anywhere near it. If it was white chocolate, I wanted a 50% discount because that was fake chocolate. The only bar I would be pleased with was the regular milk chocolate.

In the midst of my babbling, Hideyoshi puts his hand on my shoulder. “I understand you’re excited, but let the man show us what he has.”

The man thanks Hideyoshi and shows him the boxes of chocolate. The vendor doesn’t dare to look at me, worried that I’ll explode with my chocolate facts if I make eye contact with him. Jokes on him because I plan to go home and spend most of my time eating this delicacy.

“Wow, there’s a lot of sugar in these. Almost the same amount as konpeito,” Hideyoshi frowned.

My blood froze. Hideyoshi could not separate me from my beloved soulmate. He’s already a burden on the relationship of Nobunaga and his konpeito, I couldn’t let him do the same thing to me and my chocolate. He’d have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.

“Well I need the sugar in my body to keep me energized and functioning,” I snatch the bar from Hideyoshi and give the vendor a thick wad of money. “Take all of it. I want your entire collection of chocolate in return.”

The man’s eyes gleam as he counts the amount of money that I handed him. He places the box on the ledge of the stall and shoos us away, probably so we don’t change our minds.

“You know, this is a lot of sugar. If this becomes like Nobunaga and his konpeito, I might have to confiscate it,” Hideyoshi gives a suspicious glance to the box.

Ignoring him, I unwrap the chocolate bar and chomp off the top corner. The hard texture melts against the wet surface of my tongue with the sweet flavor diffusing across my tastebuds, coating the center of my tongue in milky brown. The chocolate piece has dissolved into a milky coating that travels down my throat, quenching me of my thirst for the delicacy. This is an experience I will never forget. I relish the taste of the heavenly delight as I take a second bite of the candy bar.

“Don’t eat too much of this. You could get a stomachache,” Hideyoshi interrupts my fantasy.

I shoot him a dirty look. “Alright, mother.”

I go back to cherishing my second bite, forgetting about anything that I said earlier. As I take my third bite, Hideyoshi steps closer towards me and leans in my face. “What did you just call me?”

“Uh, I don’t remember.”

“You just called me your mother! I am not your mother. Do I look like your mother to you?” He asks.

I manage to stifle my laughter. Hideyoshi is usually friendly and mature, so seeing him freak out over a small thing was hilarious. However, I couldn’t give him an honest answer because I know I’d burst out laughing, spitting my chocolate all over him. I didn’t want to embarrass the both of us, so I just shook my head. But the grin on my face gives away everything.

“Seriously? What makes me seem anything like a mother?” He puts his hands on his hips.

“For starters, that.” I mock him and put my hands on hips and purse my lips. “Secondly, you’re always watching out for us and cleaning up our messes. You scold the other warlords like they’re your children.”

“That’s because they always wreak havoc in the castle! If I don’t step up and ensure everything runs smoothly, then everything will fall apart.”

I take his hand and squeeze it. “And that’s why you’re so important in the structure of the palace. Don’t hate your motherliness, embrace it.”

Hideyoshi gives me a hard look and I felt laughter bubble in my stomach. It was a lot of fun messing with him. I almost feel bad about it, but I take the last bite of the chocolate to erase my guilty thoughts. However, Hideyoshi doesn’t look away. Instead, he squints his eyes and leans closer. I look up from my chocolate bar and nearly pulled back from the closeness between us. If this was his way of getting back at me for the mom jokes, it was totally working.

He brings his thumb to my lip and slides it down to my chin. The heat rushes to my cheeks and I am sure that my face is red. I pray to every deity in the universe that he can’t feel my heat from my chin, but the raised eyebrow on his face suggests otherwise. I could see the flecks of gold in his honey-colored eyes. The thought of my chocolate disappears as my chest grows tight. Why have chocolate when I could have something sweeter?

The warlord leans in closer, his head tilted down. His eyes are on my lips. My lips almost brush against his. His finger pressed against my chin, pulling my head towards him. His mouth parts slightly with a small curve forming. My entire body is screaming right now. Of all the things that could happen, I did not expect this.

He removes his finger from my chin and makes soft motions with his finger, tracing the skin around my lips. Then, he steps back and examines his fingers. Melted chocolate stained his fingers. Hideyoshi places the finger in his mouth and looks around, tapping his foot on the ground. Meanwhile, I’m trying to collect my thoughts and calm down, placing my hands on my cheeks.

Hideyoshi removes his finger from his mouth. “This is sweeter than konpeito. The other warlords are going to finish it in a matter of weeks.”

I would say something in defense of my candy, but my brain has been reduced to mush. That type of behavior was normal from Masamune or Mitsuhide, but not Hideyoshi. He wasn’t that clueless (that title belonged to Mitsunari).

He turns towards me. “You don’t have anything to say?”

“Uh…………”

“Alright, but one last thing,” Hideyoshi hoists the box of chocolates over his shoulder.

“I can be many things, but your mother isn’t one of them.”

#ikemen sengoku #toyotomi hideyoshi #ikesen hideyoshi #hideyoshi toyotomi #ikesen scenario

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sleepymarklee · 5 years

Text

Lab Tech! Mark Lee

Note: this hasn’t been edited. at all.

You were a bioengineering major. That’s what you started off as before one of the Biological Division’s professors snatched you up to work in her lab.

Which was great and all, except you had never worked in a lab. Ever.

Luckily, the professor trained you herself, and now as a few years passed and the lab grew in reputation, you were one of the best there

The actual amount of people working in the lab was small, only around five including you

But now as you walk to the door, keys in hand and ready to start your day, you see a boy standing there

Surprise surprise, it’s the new lab tech!

Mentally, you’re screaming because you forgot that he started today and shit the prof didn’t tell you he was cute

So, that’s how you met Mark Lee, sixth member of the lab and the clumsiest lab tech you’ve ever met

He’s being trained by one of the other scientists, Jaehyun, whose easygoing nature doesn’t mind Mark’s constant questions and slight forgetfulness

It’s almost cute, when you watch Mark work under the safety cabinet in the sterile room, how careful and focused he gets when splitting his cells

Jaehyun teases him about how much *ethanol he uses to sterilize his gloves and tools

“It’s not excessive! I’m being c a r e f u l”

“Mark ethanol costs $300″

Jaehyun approaches you as you clean off some of the glass plates, berating Haechan, one of the undergrad students, for not cleaning up after himself

Turns out he wants you to train Mark for a week or so while he goes out of town for a big conference

And you can’t say no, not when you’ve been crushing so hard on Mark you owe Jaehyun a favor

So that’s how you got involved with the clumsy lab tech, going over assays with him and giving him a side project of yours to work on

When you tell him to rewrite the protocols when he starts a new one, you notice he only uses pink pens

He labels every test tube he uses meticulously, even if it’s transient and he’ll be throwing it away once he’s done

“It’s always good to be detail-oriented, especially when you’re as forgetful as me”

He admitted this to you bashfully after you inquired about his labeling habits

While he keeps his workspace relatively clean,,,,his desk is an absolute MESS lmao

You want to tell him to clean up his desk,,,,but it’s kinda endearing, the three giant mugs he chugs coffee out of,,,,the ceramic bowl he eats EVERYTHING in,,,, it’s cute

You start to wonder if this is how he lives at home before you’re like get out of your head, workplace relationships Don’t Work Out

You ask Mark to load a protein gel for you and you jokingly tell him not to stab himself with the needle when washing out the wells

Only for him to panic and almost nick himself, which leads to you having to supervise him despite you both knowing that Mark is absolutely fully capable of doing this alone

The following Friday you and your coworkers decided to go out to eat after work

Y'all go to a small ramen shop and nearly die laughing after Mark almost cries after eating his spicy ramen

“I swear I can eat spicy food it just, the spice starts to build up!”

“Uh-huh” You can’t even feel bad for him, he ordered the spicy dish, knowing full well he couldn’t handle it

Afterwards, you take him to go get bubble tea,,,,you feel a little bad after watching him suffer

It’s nice, you think, seeing Mark after hours when he’s more relaxed and not full of thoughts and concepts

He thinks you’re pretty cute trying to decide what flavor to get

Back at work, you can’t help but notice how handsome Mark looks in his lab coat and glasses,,,,

And neither can the high school student who’s volunteering to get experience skdjdj

Although you’re not too bothered by it, her giggles and ditzy remarks start to get on your nerves after a while

It’s fine though since Mark asks you out while you two are working in the freezer room extracting proteins

You walk to the campus bakery during your lunch break and share a piece of cake

He’s super giggly and a tad nervous to be on a date with you :^(

You both jump with joy when you see that your proteins were expressed successfully

Haechan gags whenever he sees you two working together and Johnny always hears you two giggling over something

Jaehyun’s come back, pleasantly surprised at how good Mark’s technique has become in the short week he was gone

He’s not surprised you two are dating though lmao

he and johnny had a bet going

“I told you they would start dating!”

“You didn’t think Mark would have the guts to ask them out! You thought they’d make the first move”

Either way, you and Mark are the cutest scientists ever,,,,you even publish a paper with your findings and it’s highly successful,,,the talk of the science community

*70% ethanol is used to sterilize your gloves and tools before you put them in the safety cabinet, a sterile environment to work with live cells or tissues

- 🍓 Admin

#nct #mark lee #mark lee au #nct au #nct u #nct 127 #nct imagines #mark lee imagines #🍓 admin #i hope you guys liked this #can you tell im a scientist lol #mark lee fluff #mark imagines

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bi-bi-richie · 5 years

Text

Bubblegum Love

Richie just needs a few suckers for the week, but life is a little unpredictable, isn’t it?

Ao3

Richie sucked a red sucker in his mouth. The mellow taste of artificial cherry flavoring coated his tongue. It reminded him of old days when he’d be sick with a cold and his mom was have to bribe him to take the disgusting cough syrup. But, after all, cherry was better than grape. Truth be told, Richie didn’t care for suckers at all. The way they made his lips chapped and mouth run dry wasn’t anything favorable for him, not to mention water didn’t taste too great afterward. It’s just that Richie had quit cigarettes and they sort of left him with this confusing oral fixation. So now he sucks in the sickly sweet cherry suckers, hoping one day he’ll leave this addiction behind.

Saturday was a rough day for Richie. He ran out of suckers, which was something he was scolded for by his friend Bev, who made it clear that he needed to have them on hand at all times. No, running out of the disgusting sugar-on-sticks wasn’t too bad, it was the feeling of needing something all day and the scolding from Bev that made it miserable. He couldn’t break away from his shift at the diner, he knew he’d have to wait all day to get down to the gas station to pick up a bag for the next week.

When his shift ended, he shot out of the diner so fast he almost forgot his backpack and tips. Unfortunately, he walked that day, and, even worse, the nearest gas station was two miles away. But, there was one thing that wasn’t two miles away.

“Welcome to Ben’s Candy Shoppe,” an unenthusiastic man called from behind a cash register, “tell me if you need anything.”

Richie nodded his head, though he was certain this man didn’t see it, nor did he care that Richie acknowledged him at all.

Richie directed himself to the nearest aisle out of sight from the man and started looking up and down the small rows for any sort of fruit flavored candy. Chocolate seemed to be this candy shop’s specialty, which didn’t exactly make sense since chocolate wasn’t candy. He walked down another aisle and found things like Jolly Ranchers, Warheads, Sour Patch Kids, but no suckers. He was beginning to wonder why a candy shop wouldn’t have any fucking suckers! What kind of shit place is this?

He was almost ready to dip and suffer a two-mile walk down to the gas station, but then soft footsteps came up from behind him and in two seconds made him change his mind entirely.

“Hi, can I help you?” A young man, Richie’s age, no doubt, asked. Richie turned around and felt his entire soul leave his body from pure shock about how incredibly attractive the man was in front of him.

“Oh wow…” Richie whispered, looking into the man’s soft, chocolate eyes. The man was… beyond words for Richie. He had soft brown hair, beautiful doe eyes, freckles painting his sun-kissed skin, shiny plump lips and to top it off he wore a yellow, red, and white striped shirt. In short, he was Richie’s fucking dream man.

“Uh,” the boy coughed, “do you need help?”

Richie snapped and shook his head as if to show it, “sorry! Uh, yes actually I do need help.”

The boy smiled and nodded his head, “well, I’m Eddie, what’re you looking for?”

“Well, I kinda really need some suckers, but I can’t find any.” He pointed to the shelves of chocolate and tart treats.

Eddie nodded his head and pointed to the end of the aisle, “actually we have suckers on the aisle next to us, guess you were in too much of a hurry to see?”

Richie blushed, “well, sweets are my addiction. And, who’s to say me missing the suckers was a bad thing? I got a pretty cute knight in shining armor to save me.”

Fuck fuck fuck! What was that!? Why would I-

Eddie giggled, “guess I’m lucky that Stan didn’t come over instead.”

Then Richie giggled, feeling his stomach do flips and his heart flutter. Richie hadn’t really been in the dating game for a while, after he quit cigarettes he decided he would focus on himself. He was going to build a better Richie. Now, he may be addicted to sugar on a stick, but he thinks he’s done an amazing job that was definitely good enough for him to work his Tozier charm once again.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Richie said quietly, but not so Eddie couldn’t hear. “Walk me to the suckers?” He felt overjoyed when Eddie gave him a shy nod.

It wasn’t a long walk, obviously, but Richie felt himself glow with excitement. He couldn’t help but feel like hot shit, I mean, the guy had the most beautiful man he’s ever met walking right beside him. At the same time though, he was intrigued by Eddie, even if they’ve had a pretty basic conversation.

When they reached the suckers, Richie felt his mouth water and the need to have something in his mouth overwhelm him. What threw him off was the number of flavors presented to him, definitely far off from his basic cough syrup cherry.

“Wider selection than you thought?” Eddie asked with a smile.

“Mhm,” Richie nodded, “I usually just take a cherry one and call it a day.”

Eddie made a fake gagging noise and shook his head in disgust, “cherry is probably the worst! Taste like kid’s medicine, grape isn’t that far off either.”

Richie couldn’t help but let out a bark of a laugh, “you raise a good point, Spaghetti.”

“They taste as bad as that nickname, what the hell was that?”

Richie let out a loud cackle that echoed throughout the mostly empty store, “just a cute nickname for a cute guy! Don’t like it?”

Eddie made another fake gagging sound and shook his head, “it’s horrendous,” he complained, but the beaming smile on his face said otherwise.

“Whatever you say, Eds. I guess I’ll take a handful of these babies here!” He went to grab at the cherry flavored suckers to the right, but Eddie’s hand shot out and directed Richie to the pink ones right next to them.

“Buy bubblegum, it’s easily the best flavor.” Eddie’s face was tinted pink as he started to realize what he just did and how his hand was still on Richie’s, but he definitely wasn’t gonna let it show.

Richie blushed and took a handful of about sixteen, after all, he needs a lot to keep him going throughout the week. “Thanks for the advice, Eds.”

“Anytime,” Eddie squeaked.

They stood in silence for a few seconds before Richie nodded his head over to the cash registers. “Any chance you’ll check me out of this place?”

“Unfortunately, no, but I’ll see you around…” he trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows in the most adorable way possible, “uh, I didn’t get your name.”

“Oh! It’s Richie! Well, it’s Richard but that’s so grossly formal, so, y’know, call me Richie.” He was rambling, he knew that but Eddie’s smile and bright eyes made him nervous.

“Well, Richie, I’ll see you around.”

Richie never felt to pained to watch someone walk away. So, as he walked away after paying $0.50 for sixteen suckers, he swore he’d show back up and ask the boy out. Nobody was going to stop him either.

That was six weeks ago. Every day since then, Richie walked in, talked and poorly flirted with Eddie, then he bought a single bubblegum sucker and then walked out telling himself that he would ask Eddie out the next day. Now, to Richie’s credit, he was actually learning a lot about the smaller man every single day. He found out that he grew up in a small town not too far from Richie’s own, he had no mom but he lived with a wonderful dad that he adored, he was the same age as Richie, and he was gay. That last one made things at least ten times easier for Richie. In return, Richie liked to think that Eddie knew quite a bit about him too. He talked about his parents who worried about him, but he loved them dearly, his struggle to quit cigarettes, his not so glamorous job at a small diner, and that he was bisexual. Meanless to say, Richie felt like he opened up more to Eddie than he had anyone in his whole life and it was only in six short weeks.

Today, Richie once again swore he would ask Eddie out. He would! He just needed the right moment that’s all. He walked into the store and looked over to Stan and smiled. Stan had yet to say more than a few words to him, but he constantly gives Richie this dude are you serious look after Richie sees Eddie. After saying hi to Stan, he turns to the sucker aisle. Sometimes Eddie is down that aisle, other times Richie picks up his sucker and goes on a little hunt for the boy he likes so much. Eddie isn’t down the aisle today, so Richie figures he’d grab his bubblegum sucker and leave, but there wasn’t any. The only suckers left were cherry and grape, the flavors Richie grew to find disgusting thanks to various conversations with Eddie.

Richie was just about to turn around and find Eddie but he didn’t need to look far. Eddie was standing right behind him in casual clothes, ones that Richie almost full on swooned over, and he held two handfuls of bubblegum suckers. He had a warm blush spread across his cheeks and a nervous smile that Richie believed to be the cutest thing.

“Um,” Eddie squeaked out, “you’re gonna think this is stupid…”

“No no!” Richie cried out, “please continue.”

Eddie snorted and walked closer to him, “well, I have no script planned out but I was really hoping you’d go out with me tonight…”

Now it was Richie’s turn to blush from head to toe.

“It’s just that… We talk every day and I liked you since the day I met you, I’ve been kind of beating myself up over not asking you out sooner, ha. So… What do you say?”

Richie looked at him completely dumbfounded, yeah, he really liked Eddie but he definitely didn’t expect Eddie to like him back! That stuff only exists in the movies, yet here it is happening to little ol’ Richie Tozier.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been silent for too long though, “unless you don’t like me back! Oh god did I misread everything-”

“Oh fuck no!” Richie cried out, “I’ve been trying to ask you out for… literally a month, I really fucking like you!”

Eddie smiled at him and let out a loud sigh of relief, “so, are you free tonight?”

Richie smiled and plucked a sucker from Eddie’s hands, “for you, Eds, I’m always free.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my writing #this isn't my best but yknow

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emptycanoflizards · 5 years

Text

Island Song

Parkner Day 1!! I didn’t actually think that I would successfully be able to publish this tonight, but here we are!! Some sort of messy ending and everything!! Much thanks to @even-dead-im-the-hero for letting me panic and ramble to them about this, and @bellaxbeatrice and @parkneroses for giving me some much needed encouragement <3

day 1: “Road work ahead?” | Word count: 2k | Avaliable on Ao3 here

“No, sweetheart, I promise. You’re gonna love it,” Harley declared again, smiling over at Peter as he drove. “I’m just saying, the last time that you promised me that, you filled my web-shooters with silly string,” the younger replied, rolling his eyes but eventually sinking into a smile. He couldn’t help himself, he really did love everything his boyfriend did for him. “This is different. Last time, we weren’t in Hawaii, so… yeah. Big difference.” Tony and Stephen had recently decided that the life that they and Peter lived back in New York was too stressful, which lead to Tony booking them all an impromptu vacation to Hawaii. Somehow, Peter had apparently made a good enough impression on Harley’s parentals that they had decided that it was completely necessary to bring him along for the ride, and the older boy could not agree more. Two weeks on a tropical island with his boyfriend? There was literally nothing better in this world. It was only their third day on the island, but Harley had done his research and had the absolute perfect day planned. He had forced Peter out of bed at the ungodly hour of 7:30 am and told him that he urgently needed to get his swim trunks and a sweatshirt on and meet him in the car in 10 minutes. The brunet groaned and moaned but ended up doing exactly as he was instructed, and landed curled up in the passenger seat of the Jeep with three minutes to spare. Harley grinned happily as he silently drove them onto the path to their first destination. “Where are we going?” Peter asked, only six or so minutes into their drive. Harley shrugged knowingly and turned up the music before reaching over and carefully lacing their fingers together. Thirty minutes later, the Harley got off the highway and drove into a small, rundown looking artsy area, which was unusually full of cars for how early in the day it was. Peter sat up and pulled his hood down to glance at the houses that they passed and gave his boyfriend a confused look. “Unless you decided to do some charity work today, I think I’m more confused than when we left the house.” “Just wait, baby,” He said softly, driving into the parking lot of what looked like an antique mall, with less organization and more tables. The blond threw the Jeep in park and smirked over to Peter. “Okay. Get ready to have your tastebuds amazed.” Peter snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes, but as soon as he opened the door, he was shut up. Harley was obviously right. “C’mon, sugar. We got reservations for 8:10.” The two laced their fingers together again as they walked up to a small greeting area, where a plump Hawaiian lady met them. Obviously, they were outrageously busy, so the woman was stressed, but took the time to throw a kind smile at them. “The wait will be 30 minutes to an hour,” she said without thinking, busying herself with menus and silverware for another group waiting to be sat. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’ve uh... We have reservations. Under Keener, for two..” Harley said, his lips peeking into a smile as he glanced over to Peter, whose face was glowing with a light pink blush. “Oh!” she said, sounding surprised. She searched through the book and smiled when her finger found their name. “Yes yes. Come on, right over here. Corner booth alright with you?” The boys nodded contently as they followed her to a tiny booth in the far corner, right next to the window to the highway. There were plants hanging in the window, and a small fan sat in the door next to them, and the most delicious smells filled the air. Peter took a deep breath as he sat down across from Harley, who had already begun to hungerly look over the menu. “Holy shit..” The older boy whispered, whistling at all the choices. “Literally everything in here looks so good. I want everything. Think we could get everything?” Peter laughed as he looked over the options. Well, he wasn’t wrong. “We should,” he said absentmindedly, his brain preoccupied with reading the description on the red velvet pancakes. “Wait- Harley, no. Do not get everything!”Twenty minutes later, the table was filled with food of all sorts. Stacks of pancakes were in the middle, Loco Moco filled most of Harley’s side, while Peter stuck with some Kalua pork and more pancakes, this time with guava flavoring and quite possibly the best sauce either of them have ever tasted. It took them nearly an hour to make a dent in the mountain of food, even with Peter’s speedy metabolism, but it was more than okay to both of them. By the time half of the red velvet pancakes were gone, they both were stuffed. Eventually, the hefty bill was brought to them, to which Harley proudly handed Tony’s credit card back. Within minutes, they were back in the Jeep, feeling much more energized and excited for the day.The next stop was somewhat a drive away. The GPS was set for the windward side of the island, which so far was filled with tiny fruit stands, surf shops that looked like they were one hurricane away from destruction, and the most friendly people either of them could meet, which was a very welcomed change of pace as opposed to the New Yorkers that they were used to. Harley had pulled off to the side of the road only twenty minutes into their trip after Peter jokingly suggested that they needed to try coconut milk at least once on their journey. “Harley- what? No! I was kidding!” Peter called out the window of the jeep, already breaking down into giggles as he watched the blond march across the street to vender, which was guarded by a very buff Hawaiian man. If it weren’t for the man’s sudden smile, Peter would have been worried for Harley’s safety. Seconds later, he returned across the street with an armful of fresh fruit, two strange-looking saran-wrapped sushi things, and two coconuts with straws hanging out of them. “I got us some stuff for the trip,” he said triumphantly. He walked to the backseat and dumped the fruit on top of the blankets that were packed in, then motioned for Peter to come out of the car and join him. When they were both sitting on the hood of the car, Harley handed Peter a coconut and leaned his head on his shoulder. The sun was creating patterns on their legs because of the trees above them, which Peter started tracing over, causing Harley to laugh and squirm away with a squeak of “No fair, you know I’m ticklish!” Peter laughed and pulled his hand away in mock surrender, before looking down at the coconut in his hand. “So.. are you gonna drink yours first? Or me first? Or at the same time?” He asked, bringing his eyes up to meet Harley’s bright blue ones. God, the greenery around them and the sunlight above them truly did him some good. He looked absolutely breathtaking. Noticing his sudden staring, Harley ducked down and kissed him softly. Peter hummed a satisfied noise before pulling away. “Are you avoiding this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow before pointing down to the coconuts. “I don’t avoid anything,” Harley responded stubbornly, smirking and taking a long swig from the bright green straw. The reactions were almost immediate- coconut milk was being spat feet away from the Jeep, followed by a yelp of disgust, which leads to Peter nearly falling off the hood with laughter. “Do I-” the boy was cut off by his continuous laughter. “Are you still gonna make me drink mine?” “You think I’m gonna suffer alone?! Sugar, you’ve gotta down the whole thing for laughing at me like that!” Peter scoffed and shoved his boyfriend playfully. “You screamed! Like, full out screamed! Like, dropped your croissants screamed!” He responded, earning a glare, which was obviously covering a loving smile. “You drink it! See if you can not scream.” And so he did. Peter brought the identical bright green straw up to his lips and took a sip. What shocked him was the bitter-sweet taste that washed over his tongue. He turned to Harley, his brows drawing together as he took another drink. This was actually really good! “Was… was yours bad or something? Maybe the coconut rotted?” he suggested, glancing down at the other drink, mainly to dodge Harley’s confused, almost offended look. “No way. You like that? No way.” He picked up the younger boy’s drink and took a short sip, nearly gagging as soon as the liquid touched his taste buds. “Petey, I think your mouth is broken,” he stated, shaking his head as he thrust both coconuts back towards his boyfriend. Peter happily took them back, already sipping from one of the straws as Harley shook his head in mock disgust.The remainder of their morning consisted of a road trip to a secret beach Harley had found out about by talking with the Coconut Vendor Man, in which he had almost gotten them miserably lost (though, neither of them would have actually minded). The older boy was preoccupied with impressing his boyfriend with his singing to hear the GPS instructions to go left on the tiny dirt road that leads them off the highway, so they continued on. Peter was giggling loudly when Harley noticed a sign on the side of the road. “Heh.. Road work ahead? Uh, yeah. I sure hope it does,” he murmured, already giggling at his own joke as they sped on. “Harley, that says road closed ahead.” “Shit.” The car squealed to a stop as they saw said closed road, which leads to Harley showing off a very poorly executed three-point turnaround in the middle of the deserted highway. From there, they paid more attention to the voice of the GPS, which landed them in the most perfect little hide-a-way. They set up the blanket in a sandy grove, which was covered in small trees, just small enough to climb on and jump into the crystal clear water. The fruit they had collected earlier in the day sat with their sweatshirts, tank tops, and sandals under the trees until much later in the day, when they would wander up, soaking wet and cracking up laughing, to take a short refuel break. They continued their swimming, climbing, and fruit-eating routine until late into the night when the sun began to sink into the waves. Harley had built a small fire using dried out driftwood, which was what he claimed to be the one and only skill he retained from boy scouts back in elementary school before Tony adopted him. No matter where he had learned it from, Peter was simply astonished by his boyfriend’s ability. After the fire was settled, Harley opened his arms and invited Peter to come over and cuddle up in front of the newfound heat. The brunette was there without hesitation. The sun continued to set as Harley softly hummed country songs in Peter’s ears, pressing a soft kiss onto the curls on the back of his head every couple of verses. Peter’s dark eyes drifted shut as night surrounded them, the moment too relaxing for them to remain open. ‘I really could get used to this,’ he thought to himself, the combination of the fire and the waves and Harley’s sweet accent enough to slowly lull him into sleep. Only minutes later, the older boy carefully lifted him back into the car, where he wrapped the blanket gently around him and turned on his favorite album, before starting the long drive home. The windows were down as Harley got back to the hotel, letting the salty night time air mingle with Peter’s soft snoring and the echo of guitars from the radio. He looked over to his boyfriend in the passenger seat as he pulled into the driveway of their Airbnb, just taking in his messy brown hair peeking out from his own sweatshirt, the way his lips were slightly open as he slept, how peaceful his expression was, and he thought that he really might be in heaven.

#I promise tomorrow's will be better #parkner #parkner week 2019 #parkner week #my writing #parkner fic #marvel #mcu #peter Parker #harley keener #ironstrange if you squint #irondad

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jake-willow-writes · 4 years

Text

Red Gold

A cold breeze swept into the coffee shop as an old lady pushed the glass doors open. The stale winter air mingled with the sweet fragrance that my hot macchiato gave off and crept up my nostrils, making them flare uncontrollably. I took a sip of the brown liquid, which flooded my mouth with rich flavors within seconds. Successful in containing my excitement, I let out a soft sigh of satisfaction.

It has been years since I have last visited this coffee shop but I still vividly remember the heavenly taste of their macchiato. Something that I loved as much as their coffee was their 'Thursday Surprise', which always comprised of a cup of espresso, a piece of plain toast and a small, slightly overbaked donut. I was sixteen when it came to my attention that the element of surprise in this weekday special really did say a lot about this small town of ours. Despite its mediocrity, my heart was still attached to this place. This, perhaps, was the reason why the confinement was such a big deal to me: I was torn away from my birth town.

"Geez, Nathan Herber, you know you weren't supposed to drink that!"

A muffled voice with a thick Australian accent exclaimed. Nearly choking on my coffee, I looked up and found Tyler behind the door, hollering. I was quick to put away the cup as he came up to me with an agitated look.

"No food or drink. You know the rules."

He was panting when he found himself a seat across the table. I knew I was in trouble, but he did not know that yet. It was his first day at work, which meant I could probably get away with breaking a few rules by laying down one or two meticulously crafted excuses. Flashing him an awkward smile, I handed my coffee over and offered,

"Try it. It's good."

Tyler, who was boiling with rage at the moment, rejected my gesture of kindness by pushing the cup to his side.

"See, I don't want to lose my job because of you. Do you know how hard it is to find a job nowadays?"

Protested Tyler as he gave me a menacing glare.

"You can't blame me for not knowing how messed up the economy is when I only get to come out two hours every month," I shrugged and continued, "and let's just say a tiny cup of coffee won't cost you your job. Alex lets it slide all the time."

Alex has been my bodyguard for two years by now. Suffering from a mild flu, he called in sick today lest he should pass the illness onto anyone else. As a replacement, Tyler was sent in to watch over me on my 'cheat day'. As a senior member of the shelter, Alex had the regulations engraved on his mind. He was excruciatingly strict about my diet for the first couple months but over the course of these two years, he has slowly come to realize that the shelter was being overprotective and sympathized with my situation. His compassion, albeit much appreciated, meant nothing in the face of the rules imposed by the shelter.

At the end of day, I was still prohibited from consuming anything while I was out on the streets. Now that Alex was on leave, I was able to regain control of my life for a day or two without having to worry about accidentally throwing him under the bus.

I could tell Tyler was unconvinced from the way he furrowed his brows. A weak grunt escaped his lips when I interrupted with a suggestion,

"I won't blame you for being worried. How about we just keep this a secret, one that's only between you and me?"

Carefully considering my offer, he leaned back with his arms crossed. His features contorted like a vortex as if the idea I was presenting was shaving bits and pieces off his sanity. The sound of his phone ringing was what released him from his misery. I could barely hear who was talking on the other end but somehow, I was certain that this caller was up to no good. After what seemed like ages, Tyler slipped the phone back into his pocket and slammed his fist against the wooden table,

"Dr. Jensen said there's an emergency and that you need to return to the shelter this instant. I told you this was a bad idea, I told you!"

During the walk back to the shelter, I could hardly breathe as though my lungs had been crushed by a giant boulder. Shivering at the thought of Dr. Jensen running all the possible tests on me, I gagged and grunted like a drunk man at the Oktoberfest. With all the equipment in the laboratory, they could easily tell there was caffeine coursing through my veins. Sometimes I wondered how the advancement of technology was a bliss to the world, but was an absolute hazard for me. Everything just seemed so unfair: how the government treated me, how I was always the lab rat, how I had to live under this curse.

My attempt to sneak back to my room was proven unsuccessful when the guards flagged me down at the hallway. Their helmets might have helped them mask the disdainful expression on their face, but it did little in muffling their scoffs. It appeared that the entire facility knew I did something that I should not have done and now the karma has come. Tyler must have called the securities when I stowed away at the coffee shop. He thought the department was on his side and would not inform the researchers – he thought wrong, for betrayal is common among these days.

I was greeted with a spray of antibacterial white fume when I stepped into the laboratory. A piercing tune composed of mechanical cacophonies and rackets could be heard when I advanced further into the place. Upon my entrance, Dr. Jensen turned to face me in his swivel chair, his face dark as the night sky. Meeting his gaze sent a wave of uneasiness through my body as if ants were crawling all over my pale skin. I ran my fingers through the bed of straw resting on my head in hopes of alleviating the itchiness on my scalp.

"This is not good. Not good at all..."

I muttered gingerly under my breath.

"You're correct, Mr. Herber. This isn't looking promising, for yourself and for the world."

Dr. Jensen suggested as he tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair. He was listening carefully to every word I was mumbling, that was how I knew I was in for some deep trouble. I bit back a hiss and backed away from the anger burning in his eyes. Leaning against the wall, I let out a nervous laughter,

"Hah, I thought you said the lab was renovating and wouldn't need me here for a while."

I looked around without moving my head like a toddler frozen in terror. The old furniture in the room was wrapped in white linen cloths and most of the experimental equipment was stored in cardboard boxes that stacked up neatly on the floor.

"I find it interesting how you can recall this place is under renovation, Mr. Herber. I thought you couldn't remember anything, including the rules imposed by the shelter."

Dr. Jensen could barely hold back the fury in his voice. Both his tone and his gaze were as sour as an unripe lemon. Pointing to the stool next to him, he signaled me to take a seat while he continued his lesson.

"You know how important your blood is. The entire world is counting on you. Why can't you just be a tiny bit more responsible?"

The bitterness in his voice took a sharp turn and became motherly with a hint of sweetness within. Caught off-guard by this sudden change of tone, I apologized like a kid who just stole candy from his mother's pocket,

"I'm sorry I let you down, doc. I really liked coffee though and you guys wouldn't let me have it here."

After hearing what I had for the day, Dr. Jensen shook his head in a disapproving manner and sighed regretfully. His eyes returned to the monitor sitting on the desk and let his fingers fly across the keyboard, recording what I have consumed.

"Do you not know caffeine is poison?" Dr. Jensen's frown stood out from his wrinkled complexion, "How could you allow that thing to enter your body?"

Now a needle was stuck in my arm, taking samples from my blood. The crimson liquid trailed along the tube connected to the machine that was responsible for analyzing the plasma. He stared at the screen, frowning at the glaring warning that my blood was tainted with the chemical C8H10N4O2. I was trying to explain myself when the doctor stopped me with a raised hand.

"No more excuses, mister."

He said bluntly as another laboratory staff, Dr. Marx came in through the door.

"Oh right. It's you again, Mr. Troublemaker. I can't believe that's what we get for trying to keep you safe."

Marx's intent stare was shimmering under the light, a bright contrast to his bad mood.

"Hello, Dr. Marx," I replied plainly, "You know, I'm very grateful that you guys saved me from the government, but it's just coffee. I don't understand what the fuss is all about. A cup of coffee's not going to hurt anyone."

He gave me a taut smile, which quickly faded as he started toward me,

"If you think it's not that big of a deal, how about we just send you back to Washington?"

The memory of me being held captive flooded my mind. All of a sudden, the walls around me shook and shifted, turning from white to deep gray. I knew this place like the back of my hand: this was my cell in the government facility. This place has always made me felt like I was behind bars, but only worse. A prison mate might get to experience the joy of having sunlight caress his or her skin every day, but all I ever got to come into contact with was the cold touch of artificial lighting as they took my blood for further research.

We cannot afford the chance of you developing skin cancer, that was what they said.

Every day they sampled my blood, trying to unravel the mystery behind the power of the liquid.

"It's like the fucking panacea! How is this even possible?"

The government scientists exclaimed in exhilaration after they have first examined what they have taken out of my body. Rounds and rounds of studies confirmed that the miracle was actually the results of a mutation.

I have once taken a peek of the researchers' journal and saw this written on the page labeled 'Mechanism and Discovery'.

The subject has undergone a mutation that causes its cells to produce a toxin lethal to all known bacteria and viruses. From what was observed, the toxin is capable of breaking down the cell membrane or the protein coat of the antigen and releasing an enzyme to digest the cell content of said antigen. It is unlikely that running more tests on the subject would reveal the exact mechanism of this immunology reaction, but we could try and replicate the toxin that the subject releases. The discovery of this substance could very possibly save lives that are threatened by viral or bacterial infections.

This short passage has haunted me for the remainder of the days spent in the facility. Knowing that they would not give up studying the secret behind my blood, I was almost certain that I would have to spend the rest of my life being studied. Every time that thought appeared in my mind, I would ram my head against the walls of the cell, hoping it would either make the desperate idea go away or it would kill me and I would be out of this misery. In response to my suicidal actions, cushions were pinned to the walls so I could still bang my head on the wall without bleeding to my death.

The first time I held a shimmer of hope in my heart was when I heard the facility was under the ambush of an organization called 'The Shelter'. Despite the loud gunshots that were echoing throughout the corridors, I was thrilled to bits. Hiding at the corner of my cell, I was imagining myself running through the streets of Irvine, heading back home and throwing myself into my family's arms. It was no more than half an hour before the staff from the shelter found me sitting on the floor, giggling like a maniac.

By the time they got me back on my feet, the raid was almost over. Without a second thought, I pointed out the location of the closest exit and headed out the facility through the back door. My heart was filled with joy as I fled this literal hell that has held me for way too long. The soldier escorted us as we ran across the parking lot hastily. With an excited leap, I got onto the shelter's rescue helicopter. I found it hard to settle down with my emotions on a roller coaster, but eventually I calmed myself down and told them my story. After hearing what I had to say, they promised to take me back to my hometown under the condition that I would not expose myself to the public as much as possible. They explained to me that the government would be watching us constantly and that they would do anything to capture me again. At first, I was rather reluctant to agree to their terms, but thinking of how I could possibly return to my family, I saw no better choice than saying yes.

And so, I joined the shelter.

Snapped back into reality by a stern warning, I heard Jensen and Marz restated for the millionth time that I was not supposed to consume any food products while I was away from the structure. Considering how they would probably put cuffs on me if l told them the truth that there would be a day when they would have to repeat that statement for the million and first time, I nodded dubiously and steered away from the black clouds on their head.

When I exited the laboratory, the same horrible, machine-composed symphony bade me farewell. Accompanied by two guards, I stalked back to my room and stayed in bed for the next few hours. Taking blood samples was exhausting, especially when you are the one being stung by the needle. After being examined for so many times, I would expect myself to get used to the pain, but I never did. Even just back then, the pain was still as fresh as the first time I made acquaintance with the sharp, silvery spike.

It was 7 PM when I woke up to a weird sense of stiffness in my neck. Dr. Marx had talked to me about my improper sleeping position, but I never paid any attention to him. As I craned my neck, the ache at the back of head intensified, which made me flinch a little. I remembered how my mother would massage my shoulders whenever this happened and started rubbing the aching spot with my wrist. I could not tell whether it was the idea of home or the massage that made my neck feel better, but it did the job anyway.

I had been through a lot of 'cheat days', but I never got the chance to go back home. The shelter said my parents had moved and they could not trace the location of their new home. I figured they could not manage the sudden disappearance of their son and so they decided to leave this place resided by nothing but empty memories. Staring into the picture of my family that was hung on the wall right in front of my bed, I reminded myself that I must stay hopeful and perhaps one day, I would get to see them again. I missed my mother's vegetable stew, which was made with broccoli, carrots and potatoes. To be very honest, it was not that exciting of a dish, but it was better than anything I could ask for in the shelter. I had a piece of cornbread and went back to sleep soon after.

A gentle knock sounded at my door the next morning: it was Alex. He told me that one of the new staff got fired and that he felt bad for the guy. All that came tumbling out my lips was a guilty "okay..."

"So what are you planning on doing today?"

He asked me with a smile that resembled the warmth of the sun. I shrugged and pursed my lips,

"Don't know. Haven't got anything on my mind. Don't you think it would be cool if I could get two cheat days every month? That would be the dream of my life."

He raised his eyebrow as if he had just heard something preposterous.

"I know, I know. It's not gonna happen, but I can dream, okay?"

I threw my hands up in the air and complained jokingly. He mirrored my actions and said defensively,

"Okay, sure. There's one thing you gotta know though, and that is I have a lot of work to catch up on today. If you've got nothing to do, I guess you could possibly help me out?"

I was always treated as a 'friend whose also serves as an experimental subject' (The postmodifier was the important part). This was the very first time anyone has ever assigned me to a mission ever since my arrival to the shelter. Stoked, I pushed aside the covers and jumped to my feet like a child on Christmas day and asked,

"What is it?"

Flashing me the famous 'Alex grin', he put his hand on both of my shoulders and said,

"I need you to fetch some paperwork for me. The security department is having skeleton staff at the moment. You know where to get the documents, right?"

I nodded at such a profuse intensity that my neck started hurting again. After I told him that I'll meet him at the security office once I have got everything done, I burst through the door and perambulated down the hallway and entered the printing room.

The interior of the room was a complete mess. Papers of different sizes were stacked all the way up to the ceiling. The only illumination to the place was provided by a tiny yellow lamp standing on the coffee table in the center of the room. Walking over to the corner where the printer quietly sat, I took a few A4-sized papers and shoved it into the machine. With a brisk click on the on the computer mouse, I selected the file of the document that Alex wanted and started the printing process. Despite the old age of the printer, it was working at a considerable speed, spewing out documents steady. I paced around the room as I waited impatiently for the papers to be ready.

The combination of dim lights and the sound of paper flying out of the printer was almost hypnotizing. Soon I was lost in my own thoughts, only brought back to the moment when a sharp pain traveled up my body. "Ouch!" I cried as I stubbed my toe against one of those paper towers. It swayed violently, threatening to fall over and smack me in the face as retribution for not watching where I was going. At last, the tower had mercy on me and stopped swinging. Now it was looking like the leaning tower of Pisa, with most of its weight shifted to the right.

Carefully, I moved under the roof made of documents and unused paper and attempted to give the pile a little push. With several meticulous nudges, the papers edging out slid back into place, which proceeded to reveal a research form with my name on it. I was not authorized to handle research archives but after all, this document was about me. I felt like Eve, that I was betraying mankind just to quench my curiosity.

"The apple was dangling right in front of me and it would be a shame not to take it"

The serpent inside my head whispered in my ear. They couldn't possibly know me better than I know myself, right? I thought to myself and extracted the document from the dangerous spire coyly.

I quickly lost interest after reading the first few pages. The paper was mostly about how my body functions and described the capability of my blood. It also featured a bunch of words that I did not know how to pronounce, which led me to think that scientists are all just show-offs disguised as professionals. When I was about to put down the paper, my peripheral vision caught sight of a small box of words printed on the last page.

The subject, Nathan Michael Herber, was rescued from the Washington captive facility on 6/3/2015. After spying on the subject's family, we are affirmative that the subject was actually sold to the government by Maria Wake (Mother) and Denise Herber (Father) for an unknown sum. More information may be added in future revisions.

The document slipped from my shaking hands and landed on the floor with a genteel sigh.

So is this what it is?

I stormed out the printing room, leaving the documents in the printer. I had a feeling that I might pass out if I did not clear out my mind, so I did exactly that as I sprinted through the corridor. I have known this place for years. I could draw the map of the structure in my head, yet at this particular moment, I seemed to have lost all directions. I did not know where the security office was. I did not know where my room was. I did not know where to go. The thought of returning home shot through my mind like a bullet, but I knew that was not an option, not anymore.

After a lot of mindless running and exploring, I had finally found my safe place. The darted toward the utility room, weeping as I went inside and locked myself in. Flashes of joyful memories penetrated my brain as I covered my sweaty face with my hands. I could see my father tossing his five-year-old son in the air and catching him again in his arms as the boy hollered. My mother was laughing in the background and recording those precious moments on her newly brought camera. She had said she wanted to make a montage out of all these clips she had filmed of me. I could remember the pleasant smile on her face when she said that. All I ever wanted was to go back to those days when the sun was always shining bright in the sky.

About an hour later, the rusty metal door opened up with a swift pull. It was Alex again. He shot me a worried glance as he helped me up,

"You okay, man?", concern clear in his voice.

Unable to stop my body from tremoring, I replied wryly,

"I don't know who to trust anymore..."

Upon hearing my words, Alex's troubled expression turned into one of surprised. He took a brief moment to process what I had just said and tilted his head down. Taking in a deep breath, he said,

"I'm sorry."

He pitied me, he always had. Out of all the staff members in the shelter, Alex was always the one who had the most sympathy in his heart. Maybe that was why we got along: we both had that tinge of human kindness in us.

"Did you know?"

My voice cracked from all the sobbing I have done for the last hour. His lips curved inward and became a thin line. Silently nodding his head, he confessed,

"Yes, I knew that from the day I've met you."

I could understand why Alex did not tell me the brutal truth, for I did not want to hear it either. Proactively unraveling the truth is like standing under a tree in a thunderstorm: you are asking to be struck. If anything, I wish I had not known that it was my parents to gave me away to the government, that the ones who I was so desperately trying to get back to were the people who sold me out in the first place. As Alex patted me on the back, he kept repeating the same phrase over and over again,

"I'm so sorry."

It, obviously, was not his fault, but I did feel better after hearing him apologize for something that he did not do. I guess I just wanted someone to console me, that was all.

After wheezing for another hour, I decided that I wanted to be left alone and just contemplate the reason of my existence. I returned to my room and requested Alex to stay out of it, because I did not want my best friend to see me at this mental state. The place was eerily quiet, which only accentuated the sound of my cries. My family photos were still clinging to the wall, but the eyes of my parents did not feel comforting anymore. Instead, they were condescending and vile. I swept them off to the floor, which was painted a pale brown to imitate oak wood. The glass on the photo frame shattered upon the impact and flew all across the slick surface of the room. I braced myself in the tight hold of my blankets, which felt like my parents' hug. I hated it, but I simply could not stop holding onto them.

A gentle knock on the door tore me away from my sleep the next morning. I felt much better after one night of restful slumber. I could tell from the sound of the muttering that it was Alex who was behind the door. Standing alongside two guards, he looked weirdly strict (and sad) today. He brought me out to the lobby, which was filled with a bunch of strangers. They were all wearing black, but one man, in particular, had a briefcase in his hand.

"Dr. Jensen!"

I called out to him and he walked by, his face devoid of emotions. He turned around to look at me and shook his head slightly. He took the briefcase from the man and nodded toward Alex, who brought me up to the group of black-suited men and patted me on the back for one last time,

"I'm sorry you found out about this yesterday, but you know, the government really does pay plenty for you. We've gotta do it. I'm sorry."

So is that what it is?

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popatochisssp · 5 years

Text

Make Your Mark, 3/10

Series: Undertale, Underswap Relationship(s): US!Sans/Reader Chapter Warnings: Suggestive joking, language

AO3 Link

In a world where soulmates exist, monsters and humans have one thing in common: the first time two soulmates touch, a mark randomly appears somewhere–anywhere– on their bodies to represent their match.

It still doesn’t make relationships easier…but maybe it does make them a little more interesting!

Sans hasn’t yet had the pleasure of being invited to your bedroom, but it’s not as if it’s hard to find.

He can hear your great, wracking coughs from the living room, and what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t intervene?

He hefts his bag of supplies more securely over his shoulder and tracks you down to your inner-sanctum. His knuckles rap twice against your door—for manners’ sake—but he doesn’t bother to wait for an answer before barging right in.

“JUST AS I SUSPECTED,” he tsks at the sight of you. “YOU LOOK TERRIBLE!”

And you certainly do!

You can barely sit up to blink owlishly at him through bleary, bloodshot eyes. Your bed-sheets are in a haphazard tangle around your legs and your face is flushed—Sans can’t even tell if that’s snot dripping out of your nose or just sweat, but either way, you’ve clearly given up on trying to mop it off of yourself.

Your voice comes out of you in a pathetic croak, nothing at all like your usually delightful tones. “Sans…? What’re you…doing here? I told you not to come…” Then, as if doubting your own recollection, “…didn’t I?”

“YOU DID,” Sans promises, trying to assure you that you aren’t losing your mind. “BUT YOU ALSO SAID YOU WERE SICK! AND I’D BE A PRETTY GARBAGE FRIEND IF I JUST WENT ABOUT MY DAY WHILE MY BEST PAL WAS STUCK AT HOME EITHER DYING A HORRIBLE, INCURABLE DEATH OR SUFFERING FROM THE COMMON COLD.”

You squint at him knowingly. “…You’ve been on WebMD, haven’t you?”

“I HAVE! TERRIBLE WEBSITE, HATE IT, BUT IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA TO COME OVER AND DO A LITTLE CARETAKING, ANYWAY! …OR HOSPICE CARE, DEPENDING!”

You groan a little.

“I’m not dying,” you say, “and you don’t have to do anything, really… I was just gonna…sleep it off…”

Really, Sans thinks, you oughta know better than to think he’ll be that easily dissuaded.

“AND WHO’S GOING TO GET THE COUGH MEDICINE YOU LEFT ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER?” he asks. “OR HEAT UP THAT CAN OF SOUP I SAW NEXT TO IT? OR EMPTY THAT ABOMINABLY FULL TRASH CAN RIGHT THERE? YOU?”

You poor, sick, scatterbrained human. The both of you know damn well that you’re not going anywhere for the rest of the day—food and drugs and more room to cram used tissues be damned.

You could really use Sans’ help right now, and he watches you slowly realize that.

It’s not long before you physically slump back against your mattress, defeated. “I’m…not gonna be much fun,” is your last feeble protest, and Sans’ grin broadens.

“THEN, I’LL JUST HAVE TO BE ENOUGH FUN FOR BOTH OF US, WON’T I?”

And so begins Sans’ lovely afternoon taking care of his best friend and not-so-negligible crush.

………Sans will be the first to admit that he may have a case of the rose-colored glasses, here.

It’s not particularly lovely to have to dump out a bunch of snot-filled tissues…or to stop you from sleepily face-planting into your soup before you could finish it…or listen to you audibly gag at the terrible flavor of the cough syrup, triggering yourself into a wince-inducing coughing fit.

It’s actually kinda the opposite when your hacking sends a wad of…fluid…straight onto his favorite bandana, probably staining it beyond repair.

But the wide-eyed look of horror you give him just half a second afterwards shows off your entrancing eyes, and the sheer mortified panic on your face makes you look so cute, and it’s all Sans can do to hold back a laugh.

I REGRET NOTHING, he decides with ease.

Sans just reaches up to undo the knot at the back of his neck, even as you sputter, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, that’s so gross! I’ll! I’ll wash that for you, let me—”

He jerks his arm back, pulling his bandana off and out of your reach—your grasping fingers barely even graze his ulna—and he wags a finger at you.

“NO CHANCE,” he firmly tells your paling, wide-eyed self. “I’LL TAKE CARE OF IT. YOU STAY HERE AND REST, THAT’S AN ORDER!”

You’re…oddly compliant, almost uncharacteristically so…but Sans isn’t about to complain.

You just sit there and watch him leave in search of your bathroom, and Sans puts your gawping stare down to your illness.

At least…he does, until he starts to rinse his bandana in the sink and catches a strange flash of green in the mirror above it.

The soiled cloth slips right out of Sans’ fingers, his eye-lights winking out from shock at the sight of his own bare collarbone.

There’s a flower there, its stem coiling along his clavicle and bursting into a colorful bloom of petals across his manubrium.

It’s your favorite.

Sans knows that because you told him so when he asked and he's associated it with you ever since, just one of a thousand inane little facts about you that he memorized because everything you’ve ever told him feels like the most important, interesting thing he’s ever heard.

And…you’re his soulmate.

Somehow, he’s not surprised…but he is excited.

In the mirror, he sees his eye-lights pop back to life in his sockets, already star-shaped, and as lazy as it is, he doesn’t want to waste even a second—he has to see you, right now.

Sans shortcuts back into your bedroom.

In the few moments he’s been gone, you’ve managed to kick off your sheets and are puzzling very intently over your leg, where some squiggly blue lines seem to have taken shape.

“WHAT IS IT?” Sans asks eagerly, jogging all two steps up to your bed. “WHAT’S THE MARK???”

“I…I dunno?” you admit. “I’m happy, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t… It’s just, like…hexagons? And…lines? I don’t…get it…”

The up-close view triggers something in Sans, though, a nearly-buried memory from his schooldays.

“THAT’S…THAT’S A SKELETAL FORMULA,” he realizes.

“Uh…what?”

Sans doesn’t bother to explain, whipping out his phone and yanking you closer by your calf in spite of your startled squeak.

“C…43, H66, N……” He quickly types the values in and looks the chemical up, clicking through to the first reputable-looking website he can find. “OKAY, THAT’S……OH. OH!”

“What?!” you demand, starting to sound distressed. “What is it?!”

“IT’S OXYTOCIN,” Sans happily informs you, discarding his phone with the cockiest smirk he’s ever worn in his life. “IT’S A HORMONE IN HUMANS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT’S FOR…?”

“No…? I, uh…uh.” Your mouth drops open as Sans starts crawling onto the bed, eye-lights bright with excitement.

“YOU CALL IT THE ‘LOVE HORMONE,’” he purrs above you, “THE ‘CUDDLE HORMONE’… DO YOU GET MY DRIFT, DEAR…?”

Sans can practically hear the, oh, holy shit racing through your mind, clear as day. His grin goes crooked when you just swallow hard and shake your head.

“IT MEANS…THAT YOU MUST BE…IN DIRE NEED…OF SOME GOOD, HARD…CUDDLING!”

You yelp as Sans pounces, scooping you into his arms and snuggling you tightly against his chest. He nuzzles fervently at your sweaty neck, making you laugh even as he tucks the both of you back up against your pillows and pulls up your sheets.

You laugh until you start to cough and as much as Sans hates to hear you suffering, he can’t quite resist teasing you.

“SEE?” he says against your skin. “YOU’RE STILL SICK! CUDDLING’S ALL YOU’RE GOOD FOR RIGHT NOW. HEHEHEH, WHAT DID YOU THINK I WAS GONNA DO?”

“Oh…oh god…” you breathe between rattling hacks. “…fuck…”

Sans clucks the tongue he doesn’t have. “I THOUGHT SO—LEWD HUMAN! YOU’RE SICK AS A DOG AND WE HAVEN’T EVEN HAD OUR FIRST DATE AND THAT’S ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT!”

“Oh my god,” you wheeze, “I hate you…!”

“BLATANT LIES,” Sans declares. “YOU LOVE ME, YOUR SOULMARK SAYS SO. NOW, GO TO SLEEP ALREADY—AND DON’T HAVE DIRTY DREAMS ABOUT ME, THIS CUDDLING IS PURELY THERAPEUTIC!”

“Hhhhhhhhhhhh…”

But you turn and bury your face into Sans’ chest, clinging to him in a way that just makes him want to squeeze you tighter.

He can’t wait for you to get over this cold.

#undertale #sans #sans/reader #underswap #us!sans #myfic #make your mark #fanfiction

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beerecordings · 5 years

Text

That Which Remains

Part 12 of My Brother’s Keeper (Part 1 l Previous l Next)

My taglist is a separate post, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed. I’m considering this kind of the end of like section 1 of My Brother’s Keeper. There is a lot more to come, but again, if you want to be taken off that taglist or anything, you lemme know, love.

Hey, thanks for being here :)

Four of his brothers, caged in one single room, so helpless, so distraught. Anti’s out for blood. Anti does not forgive betrayal so easily.

Chase promised.

He promised to get Schneep and go. He promised to protect Jameson.

Chase promised.

Then again, he's made many promises in his life that didn't come to be, and Anti is there already, there in front of him before he even has a chance to lift Henrik into his arms or drag Jameson towards the stairs. The demon's presence on the third floor makes the air split and glitch with color, and Chase hollers and falls back, grabbing Jamie's wrist and trying to pull him away.

“He's coming, let's go! Jamie, please!”

But Dapper is stiff with terror and held tight by a desperate, painful kind of love, the only kind he has ever known. He yanks free of Chase's grip and staggers towards Anti's appearing form in the middle of the room.

“Well, little one, what's this?” croons Anti, apparating with black eyes and a face like a corpse. Parts of his body are spasming uselessly from Jackie's light, but for the most part he is whole and unharmed. “Chase Brody, alive? That isn't what I told you I wanted to return to, is it, my Dapper love?”

“I'm sorry.” Dapper's hands are shaking so much he can hardly sign. “I'm sorry, I couldn't.”

In fact he'd turned back the fate of the cosmos to prevent it, but he hasn't quite come to terms with that yet. He decides to weep instead of explaining. Anti's always liked to see him cry.

“Oh, Dapper, you couldn't?” Anti shakes his head, but he's hardly pretending to be hurt, his eyes burning with abhorrence and his mouth twisted up in a blood-stained smile. “You're a cold, faithless little creature. How could you betray me, mhuirnín? You'll have to be punished.”

Dapper's eyelashes drip hot tears and he's gasping like his chest is caving in. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to die. “Anti, I'm sorry.”

“No, puppy,” laughs Anti, tossing his knife in his hands. “Not sorry yet.”

“Leave him the fuck alone!” Chase screams. “Jamie, come here, come away from him!”

“Ah, Chase Brody,” Anti's attention is turned and he stares at him with glittering eyes. “Beautiful little brother. Dammit. I really didn't plan to meet you tonight. Here's the thing, you useless excuse for a living creature – now that I meet you I don't really want to kill you.”

Chase shivers, crawling away with Henrik in his arms. Fuck, he wishes Jackie would hurry up.

“It happens all the time with people I hate,” Anti grumbles, shaking his head. “It's a fucking pain, really. I hate to kill someone like you when I could be having real fun, you know? Why devour your dura mater when I could hold you in my basement and make you beg for blood loss? Why suck your spine dry when I could watch you scream for months on end?” He moves forward and takes Dapper by the back of the throat, making his little brother whimper.

“No, looking at you now, I think I'd rather see my two baby brothers destroying each other in the pursuit of my attention. Wouldn't that be fun? Fighting for kisses and kindness? What's your favorite flavor of blood, Chase? Dapper's is anything positive, by the way.”

“Let him go, dude! Fuck, you are so messed up!”

“'Let him go, dude!'” Anti mimicks. There's so much hatred in his eyes it makes Chase shake just to look at him. He bends low over Henrik and holds him close. He'll protect his brother's body with his own if he has to. “You know, you're really pretty annoying, little brother,” Anti adds. “Maybe I could kill you after all.”

His grip tightens on Dapper's neck. “Maybe I could kill you both.”

“Leave them alone!” cries Jackie, his voice raw with agony, finally making it down the stairs. He's limping like a shot dog, but he's here, and Chase could cry for relief when he comes to stand in front of him.

“For fuck's sake,” Anti laughs, digging his claws into Jameson's neck until his little brother is crying from pain and fear alike. “I thought we were done dancing for tonight.”

Jackie needs to summon a light. Jackie needs to summon enough light to send Anti away. But the little one – the littlest one, the littlest brother –

He's been alive all this time, hasn't he? He's been alive and I let Anti have him. I've failed him like I failed Marvin. Why can't I do fucking anything right?

“Jackie, do something!” Chase screams. “That's Jameson, that's our brother! Don't let him hurt him!”

His heart is broken and he knows he can't summon enough. He can't save anyone anymore. He is small and broken and lost, and though his hands glow and his eyes illuminate, there is too much despair and too little strength left within him to send the demon away.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispers, and then his knees give out beneath him and his despair makes him gag and choke.

Chase lets out a desperate groan and grips at his hair, trembling. There has to be a way to stop this.

I promised. I promised I wouldn't let Anti hurt him. Not Jackie, me. I promised I wouldn't let this happen.

Anti heaves Jamie into the air, and Dapper's neck sobs blood from crescent moon cuts, bruising purple and black. Jameson's shaking so hard he can barely think, but he doesn't bother trying to move time again. Anti has always been his god, and there's no escaping his wrath, not really, not forever. Besides, he deserves it.

I broke the rules, he thinks, and closes his eyes. I broke the rules and this is the punishment. Maybe if I die quietly he'll forgive me.

He stops his struggle and waits, waits for a sanguine deliverance from all that he has suffered. Anti rewards him by freeing his right hand and carding it, gentle, through his hair, while he kills him with the left.

“Aww,” the demon purrs, stepping closer with Jameson dangling from his hand. “Can't get it up, can you, Jackieboy? Well, you always were a worthless little rat. You always were a light that burned only for itself. I think it's time you learn another lesson about trying to play hero.”

“Anti,” gasps Jackie, trying to get back to his feet, without success. “Anti, let him go. Take me. Take me in his place.”

“Your hand is empty, mo deartháir, be silent. I'm so very tired of the endless beating of your hearts. I think I'll eviscerate all four of you. I think I'll sink my teeth into your throats and finally get a taste of good warm blood. And when you are all stretched out unmoving on the floors of this building, blood still pouring from your fountain hearts, blue with death, so stiff, so heavy, I will track down your little Jack myself and make sure – ”

The gun is a .44 double action Magnum with a silver four-inch barrel stuffed full of fat lead bullets. It's one of the most powerful little handguns ever distributed. Chase bought it after Henrik and Marvin disappeared because he never felt safe anymore. Anti's sustaining a mostly physical form and the bullet strikes him squarely in the forehead. If he were human, he'd be dead in an instant, his skull punctured and his brain splattered across the walls of the skeleton building. As it is, he glitches, drops Jameson, and leans slowly over, his fingers reaching up to find the wound in his head.

Chase grips the gun in his right hand. His mouth is tight and his eyes do not move. His hands are very steady.

“C̵h͞ase̵ ͘͢B̕ro̕͟ḑ̀́y̴҉̸ ” Anti chokes, his voice static and faraway like a radio station that can't stop cutting in and out. His body sways and spasms and flickers dizzily in the darkness. “ Wh͟͜͞a̡t̸̢̀ ͡a̶̷̕ ̛͝ś̀il̶͜ly̡ ̵p͟u͝p͏̧͝ṕe̕t͟͝ ̷ý̨͠ơ̴͠ų҉ ̕͡a͏͢r̨̕͢e͢͝҉ .”

Something that looks like blood runs fast from his mouth and head.

Dapper screams without sound and shoves himself back onto his feet, reaching out for Anti. His hands pass right through his brother's body and he gasps again and again, trying to catch Anti or touch him or tell him somehow, anyhow, that everything would be okay, that he was here, that he would protect him now, that he loved him and he was sorry.

“P҉o͏̕o̡r̸͢ ̴͝D̵̛͠á̕p̧ṕȩr͏ ̸͠bo҉̵͏y̶̶ ,” Anti hisses through a throat that bleeds like a waterfall, and Dapper struggles to understand, his desperate hands outstretched. “ Y̛͏͏ó̷̧u̡҉̶ ̨s̵͘͢a͝v̶e͏͢d̡ ̴̕͏h̷im̴.̶́ ̸͞N̴o̵̷͞w̡ ̶͘b́͟e͢͠ ̨h̷͢͡i͘s̕, ̴̕t͢r̵ą͝it̶͠͡ǫ̸̶rơu͢s̨̀ ̸͘c̢re̡àt̛ure͞.̡”

“No,” say Dapper's hands, and then Jackie grabs his arm and yanks him away.

“Anti!” Dapper makes an A to slash his own throat open and thrashes in Jackie's grip. “Anti, don't leave me! I'm sorry!”

Anti looks up with eyes that burn red, and stares directly at Chase.

“ Yo͡҉ứ ͢͡w͟͏͡i͘̕͢l̢l règ҉ret͜ t͡͠ha̧t̷͘ my ͏l̡̛̕i͡t͞t̸́ļ̴è̀ ̸ps̕͢y͏̕c͜͟h̨o̡pá͜th̛ ̷́did ̸̨͡ǹ͟o̡t̵ k͘í̴ll̨͘ ͢yơ͝u͢,” he promises. “ You ͞wil͢l regre͏t̷ th́at͞ you͠ e̡ve͟ŗ ͜su͞r͞v͝i͞v̕èd ͡p̷as̡t ͘the͠ ̴da̵y҉ of͟ yo̢u̷r͠ c͢r̶ea͏tiǫn,͝ ͞Chase͜ B̴r̢o͡d͡ý. I will͘ ͞hu͢nt̡ you̶ d҉ow̵n. ͏A͏nd I̡ will͟ ͜m͠ake ̧y̸òu p̴ay.̡”

“Leave him alone!” Jackie screams, and then Anti is gone.

Anti is gone.

He leaves behind the smell of ash, and a static crackle in the air, and Jameson, his hands frozen in the middle of Anti's name, two fingers set on his bruised throat.

“Anti,” he says. “Anti, Anti. Anti, don't go.”

Too late. Too late. Too late.

His brother can’t be gone. Anti can’t be gone. Didn’t he tell him he’d always take care of him? Didn’t he tell him they’d always stand side-by-side? No, this is too much, too much, too awful and overwhelming, and Jameson - Jameson -

Jameson collapses. Jackie catches him and tumbles to the ground with his little brother in his arms. For a long moment, he just stares at the gun in Chase’s hands, because he’s never seen a bullet work on Anti before and he can tell that something’s wrong. He just doesn’t know what.

He takes a breath, tries to calm down, and then starts to cry, starts to cry for so many different reasons. For Chase, now at the epicenter of Anti's anger, for Henrik, tortured and ill, for his aching back and his missing brother and his sleeping friend and for this long-lost brother, lying still and sorrowful in his lap.

“Alive,” he sobs, burying his face in Jameson's shoulder. “Alive, alive, alive!”

Chase carries Henrik over to them and sits down beside them. He wraps an arm around Jackie's stomach and he holds all three of his brothers as close as he can.

“It's okay,” he whispers, closing his eyes and trying to breathe. “It's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay.”

And Jackie, bent with fear and loss and pain and, somewhere deep in his chest, one little blue sliver of hope, can only pray that his brother speaks truth.

#chase brody #antisepticeye #jameson jackson #jackieboyman #bee writes #my brother's keeper #my brother's keeper 12 #whew okay i have been plotting so much in the last couple days #everything here should be ready to go #tell me if the zalgo is too difficult to read #gore tw

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konekoryuugamine · 5 years

Text

Riffing the Reef: “Greasy Buffoons”

This episode made me gag. No joke. Someone has a sick sense of humor at some studio. Spongebob is owned by Stephen Hillenburg and I am only going over the episodes I feel miss the point of the show. Please read and enjoy. As I stated in the first "Riffing the Reef", Mr. Krabs has become a character I despise with every moral fiber of my being. He's the itemization of Greed within this show, possibly within all cartoons, more so than Mr. Burns. Yeah, I went there. Krabs did have a good dimension of character in pre-movie episodes of Spongebob and was even shown he cared deeply for his crew and family in several episodes. He cared for Pearl in "Culture Shock", he defended Spongebob in "Born Again Krabs", and in "Squid on Strike" he admitted he needed Spongebob and Squidward to help him. His cheap nature was often kept as a joke, like in "Imitation Krabs", but it was kept subtle for his better parts to show. And yes, in some episodes like "Krabby Land" and "The Patty Caper", he got what was coming to him. THANKFULLY.

However, many an episode exists where he is not placed at fault with his immoral actions, and he is not portrayed as the dimensional character he ONCE was. I saw ONCE because the old Mr. Krabs is gone and dead. He has become villainous, a criminal, and a downright jack-ss to his employers, murderous, cheap and disgusting as I'll get out, and has resorted to often letting his family and friends take the brunt of his actions. Krabs has become flanderized to the point where he is the character I want to see set in boiling oil and served with a side of butter. And that DID happen in a modern Spongebob episode, albeit it was in about season 4 or 5, but I digress. Evidence of his flanderization and bastardization go from "Drive-Thru", "Summer Job", "Krabby Kronicle", "Penny Foolish" and that one episode where he used Gary to acquire stolen money to "One Coarse Meal", "Cracked Krabs", "Spongebob, You're Fired" and "The Krusty Sponge". I'll tackle those, especially a certain one, in the near future, but for now, I want to take a look at one that involves his greedy nature, Plankton and almost everything wrong with a modern Spongebob episode in one swoop. "Greasy Buffoons". This episode is disgusting, beyond annoying and shows Krabs as a jerk and Plankton as a somewhat good-guy here. I actually gagged when I watched it. And instantly realized why my mom suddenly banned my sisters and I from watching the show years ago.

Spongebob is actually in character for this episode as well, so that is also a problem in its own right, but the real problem stems from the plot itself. Spongebob, after slipping on a grease slick on the kitchen floor, and ADMITTING TO KRABS HE FELT HE BROKE SOMETHING, Krabs sees the grease trap is overflowing and says that they have to empty it, adding "for no extra pay". Note how Squidward actually vanishes at this point. I cannot blame him. Already the problem is that Krabs was ignorant of his own employees, even saying THEY had to clean out the grease trap. He specifically states that it was a job for two employees to do for no extra pay. Funny or not, it's just a bad thing to mention. He was also ignorant of Spongebob's overall health prognosis, even when he stated he felt hurt. You would think after so long, Spongebob would be an assent for Mr. Krabs, but oftentimes the Krab treats him as a slave, a dirt monkey, or worse. Several episodes like "Staycation" and "WhoBob WhatPants" show he cares little for paying him for his services and often will resort to belittling him in other episodes. However, he's not above trying to get his 'Golden Boy' back when he's not making money in the restaurant, also like in "WhoBob Whatpants". That episode is already on my list . . . Already I'm talking about this crab, but that's the least obstructive point in the episode. The REAL meat of the story begins when Krabs and Spongebob, (more or less from Krabs' directions), dump the excess grease behind the Chum Bucket. Spongebob, as they drive off, asks Mr. Krabs if that was legal. Krabs replies with " Le-gale?" . . . I've stated this before, and I'll state it again: I despise this character. He's been disciplined, he's been in the Navy, he's been a cook and a cleaner on several ships for the love of Neptune! He would be familiar with the concept of Johnny Law, even with basic commands like 'Attention' and 'Cleanliness'. This line ALONE shows that Krabs has become a purely evil character, as he dumped a highly toxic and/or strange chemical behind his rival's restaurant and did not know it was a bad thing. This is being blind to morality, or genuine idiocy enforced on the character due to the plot. THIS IS A BAD THING. Another thing is YES, it IS illegal to dump these kinds of chemicals on the ground like that. It can cause toxicity to the environment, the removal of any kind of soil, and can destroy whole ecosystems. He would also lose his vendor's license, but let's not GO THERE NOW! Plankton finds the goop the next morning and immediately notices it tastes amazing. He takes it and uses it to make his chum taste better, which it actually might, and brings in customers who don't seem to hate his food. Another problem or two I have with this episode is how Plankton is portrayed, and how the rivalry between Krabs and Plankton is seen as a fast-food competition with GREASE equaling FLAVOR. First off, Plankton tells Krabs, (after Krabs uses a terribly written pun and/or 4th wall-breaking joke), that he was visited by the "Flavor Fairy", and that he was legitimately using it. The point does remain that Plankton was using Krabby Patty grease to mix with his chum, and Krabs DID dump it illegally on his property. The debate over whether or not Plankton 'stole' the flavor is varied, but in my honest opinion, since Krabs got rid of it, Plankton could use it as he pleased. Krabs, being the jerk sod he is, doesn't want the trilobite to have a SINGLE customer, and given Plankton's past attempts at selling his chum, I cannot blame him here. The best example would be for "Spongicus" when he grotesquely described what was in his chum on a stick. I felt nauseated when I heard he put anchor rust in there. However, the greedy crustacean takes it too far as he uses the grease from his own patties to make them 'tastier', and gives them 'new and amazing' names to go with it. Krabs is being played as the good guy in this part, while Plankton is being placed as the villain still. The problem is Plankton did not do anything morally or legally wrong. Plankton is not at fault, nor was he ever at fault. All he is guilty of is using grease that was disposed of on the ground, which may or may not end up making his customers sick with bacteria.

Come to think of it, that would have been a far better angle to take on this episode. Krabs disposes of the grease, Plankton begins to use it, and Krabs knows even mixing the Krabby Batty grease with the chum would cause some disaster for Bikini Bottomites, so he recruits Spongebob to help eliminate the grease and right his wrong.

THEN AGAIN, this is Spongebob, so when has logic been applied before? Another note I have to address is it's been proven by numerous studies that an intake of too much grease can lead to obesity, increased heart problems, breathing problems, etc. Just because it makes something taste better does not mean is it going to be good for your body. These two should have known about health codes and regulations in the first place to earn their vendor's licenses, and to even open their restaurants. And they did, once upon a time. This episode carelessly uses the grease as a plot device to start the conflict between the two, and create a stir of activity between their food. The two each try to outdo the other, even to the point where Krabs is serving 'Yummy Soup', which in reality is grease on a paper plate. DISGUSTING DOES NOT EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE IT. A minor argument can also be made that the same customers who rush back and forth between the two restaurants are also at fault, mostly because they buy into the hypes the two monsters generate over their 'tasty' foods. Grease is sprayed between fish, they grow obese and become covered in the grotesque stuff, and one even SPITS IT OUT AS HE TALKED TO SPONGEBOB. There are lines to draw here. It is gross. This episode legitimately made me ill to watch. The customers here are also written to serve the plot and are portrayed as stupid and ignorant of their surroundings. A general consensus of Bikini Bottomites from previous episodes have often shown intelligence, even a collective conscience, but THIS is just stupidity for the sake of the plot. The entire time this goes on, Krabs is egging on the competition as much as Plankton is. He is raking in the money and cares nothing for his employees, NOR for his customers. All he cares about is money, money, money, money, MONEY. The old Krabs would actually abide by his customers, like in the episode "Bubble Buddy". He’d care about the customer and even go so far as to chew an elderly lady’s patty for her. Here, he’s shown to be completely ignorant of the customers' conditions and of Spongebob's thoughts towards how feeding people grease of this amount is a BAD thing. The krab has been cracked; no pun intended on any future riffing episode. The only saving grace of the episode is that Spongebob, close as he is to his original personality, calls the health inspector, and admits that the two have been feeding people grease for, as he says, two weeks. For SPONGEBOB of all people to do this, after seeing Patrick suffering, is the best thing in this episode. He recognized the immorality of Krabs and Plankton's actions while also admitting what he was doing as the cook was wrong. The inspector being here is also an unexpected part. If this were another episode, Krabs and Plankton would have been arrested and the restaurants would have been destroyed from grease fires. However, there was a gas and fire joke in "Just One Bite", and that was edited for safety's sake after 9/11, so who am I to say now about this? The episode's conclusion shows the restaurants being shut down until they become clean, which, if it had ended there, would have been a satisfying conclusion for a mediocre episode. Krabs would have been punished for his immoral actions, karma would have taken its course and we would end on a happy note for once. BUT NO. Spongebob soaks up the grease, tells Krabs that he will dispose of it properly, and Krabs is stuck in a dream-like state because he fell asleep outside and had one of those "it was all a dream" moments. Patrick then comes out of literal nowhere and starts licking Spongebob for the grease, and Krabs ends the episode with a questionable thinking expression. THIS is a bad ending and a bad idea. KRABS should have been the one to help clean up his own mess, NOT Spongebob. This is averting him from accepting what he did was wrong and for taking the blame for his actions. Spongebob cleaning up his mess is not a good way to end this kind of story, nor is it a good idea for Krabs to continuously have evil thoughts like this while Spongebob is being pursued by Patrick. I can only speculate what he was thinking, but I feel it was along the lines of him using Spongebob for more grease and Krabby patties again. This makes Krabs even more of a Karma Houdini. He was caught, but SPONGEBOB was the one who cleaned up his mess. And he still gets allowed the chance to make the same scam going again thanks to Spongebob’s golden boy attitude. No punishment, no permanent comeuppance, all for the sake of some cheap laugh. This just teaches the wrong lesson in morality as well as how people should not go about running restaurants. And this was in a MODERN kid's cartoon. Overall, this episode shows Krabs as a jerk and a terrible person. He's ignorant to the law, (which from previous episodes deviates from his character), unfaithful to his employees and uncaring to the customers he once showed small amounts of compassion for. Spongebob is the only person who is still in character and Plankton was shoe-horned in for the sake of the plot, like the grease itself. The citizens are devoid of intelligence and Patrick is only here because “laugh, monkey”. It demonstrated both immorality and careless writing on part of it being an 'entertaining' story.

#analysis #spongebob #spongebob squarepants #spongebobsquarepants #nick #wtfspongebob #gross #grease #greasy buffoons #greasybuffoons #disgusting #bad ideas all around #someonewannarewritethisepisode #writinganalysis #writing analysis #nickelodeon

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zhoto-bodoroki-blog · 6 years

Text

The Quiet Moon ☾

Todoroki x reader

Part 9

MasterList For TQM

enjoy :)

- - -

“She was killed b-by you...(y/n)...”

You quickly sat up from the floor. Your heart began to beat faster than you could breathe. Your whole body was drenched with sweat. You held your chest, trying to steady your breathing. You looked around the room you were in, the training room. You sighed and stood up, you must’ve passed out from training too hard. You couldn’t help but think about that creepy dream you just had, it just seemed so...real. You deeply sighed and stood up from the floor and checked your phone to see what time it was.

2:36 am, Sunday

You sighed once again, what was up with that dream? Could it be telling you something…?

‘No, I remember every part of my childhood vividly, all those days I’ve trained, all those nights I’ve cried, all that pain I’ve endured, those things will forever be engraved in my mind. I still remembered the time my mom stopped showing me any kind of love, then sent me off with father to train. How I cried for her to come and save me from him... Those times I use to run away from home to get away from him, but was eventually caught.’ Thinking about those dreadful memories made your blood boil, without realizing your nails dug deeply into your skin. You looked at your palm, blood was now pouring out.

‘What if that dream was actually true…does that mean I’m a killer? A...monster? Could that be the reason why my mother and father are so cold? No, it doesn’t make sense. They were villains, they were never showed much love. It can’t be..’ You decided to shrug it off and went to clean yourself up, you hissed when the alcohol touched your wounded palm, you wrapped your hand with one of those compression bandages and went to your kitchen. Your whole house was rather dark, the lighting outside didn’t make it any better. Although you’ve lived here for your entire life it still gave you the creeps whenever you were alone.

You made yourself a light snack, a plain, too healthy snack. Literally just veggies with a green herbs smoothie that doesn’t have a pleasant flavor. You sat down on the floor by the sliding glass doors, the backyard was illuminated by a few fairy lights, the pool always amazed you during the night. The lights inside it made it look majestic. You slightly smiled at the view. Memories of what happened last night started to come back to you, how Todoroki cupped your face with his soft gentle hands, how his thumb caressed your cheeks... You blushed at the thought, you immediately shook your head.

‘I shouldn’t be thinking about those things…not when he can be targeted by those villains. I don’t want him to get hurt because of me…’ your face soften.

‘Why do I all of a sudden care for people? Have I actually gotten soft?’ You began to grow irritated

“Goddammit! God dammit!!” you harshly threw your plate into the wall, making it shatter.

“Goddammit, todoroki! Why do I have to care so damn much about you? Why all of a sudden I feel these things?! Why can’t I just feel numb like I once did... Fuck!” You started to rub your hands onto your face out of frustration. All of what was happening was so wrong. People like you shouldn’t have these types of emotions, people that enjoyed seeing others suffer shouldn’t have feelings towards anyone…but yet your parents were like that and they ended up falling for each other…goddammit!

You stood up from the floor and began to walk towards the front door, you needed to clear your mind from all of this, fresh air always helps. Once you opened the door you saw a familiar figure walk away, a figure you dreaded but adored so much it infuriates you

“Todoroki?” You called out, he turned around, embarrassingly rubbed his neck

“(L/n)…sorry if I woke you…I came over to apologize for my actions from earlier but I seemed to forget what time it was” you closed the door behind you and began to walk towards him, rubbing your forearm along the way. You all of a sudden started to feel shy around him, all the anger you had a second ago vanished

“You don’t have to apologize, it was my fault after all…sometimes I say things without thinking then everything gets complicated…I don't know what's gotten into me these past few days…I just haven’t been myself lately. “ you looked down at his hands, he was holding some type of silver container

“ Is that for me?” You asked pointing to the container he had in his hand, he looked down and held it out

“Yeah, my sister made some tonkatsu. She’s used to making a lot of food but…here, I hope you like it” you smiled and took it. You looked at it with a smile. Rain began to pour down. The two of you looked up at the sky, the rain felt cold on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You looked back at todoroki, he was still gazing up, water was dripping down his sharp jawline, he looked over towards you in the corner of his eyes, he lowered his head so he can look at you. You blushed and quickly looked away.

“We should go inside…I don't want us to get sick. I-if you want” you started to rub your forearm once again, still not looking at him. You closed our eyes and narrowed your brows, you hated how soft you felt, it’s like you’re a whole different person when you’re around him, you weren’t so cold with him... If it were someone else you would’ve sent them home. But with him, you just want to have him around for as long as you could.

“Is that ok with you? I don't want to be obtrusive“

“No!” You said a bit too quickly, you embarrassingly blushed at our outburst.

“Its no problem…” you muttered, he slightly smiled and nodded. The two of you went inside your house.

“Wait here, ill bring some towels,” you said as you started to walk away. Todoroki followed your movements with his eyes before looking over at a table that was next to the shoe rack. He picked up the old newspaper that was there and glanced at it. His eyes narrowed. When he heard you come back he put it back down.

“Here you go.” You said as you handed him a towel. He smiled and grabbed it. He began to dry himself up, you could see his toned body through his white shirt. Your face couldn’t get any redder. You bit your lip and looked away

“I-I'll be in the kitchen…” you said as you began to walk away. Once you went to the kitchen you placed the aluminum container on your counter, you opened it and smiled. It looked amazing, the only thing you can ‘cook’ is cup ramen noodles, but sometimes you end up burning it since you forget to put water in the cup. Now that your parents are gone, that means the cooks are gone as well so you have to make your own food or buy it. You closed the lid and placed it in the microwave. Before you could press ‘Start’ Todoroki came in

“Wait! Don't put it in there!” He shouted. You looked over at him and tilted your head

“Why? Don't you put food in here to heat it up?” He walked over towards you and opened the microwave.

“Yeah, but your microwave will blow up if you heat aluminum with it” he said as he took out the container. Your lips formed an ‘oh’. You scratched your head.

‘No wonder all those other times I’ve headed things up that had aluminum it blew up, I always thought the microwave was broken or something. Oddly my parents never noticed, they would just buy a new one, maybe they also don't know about this new thing I’ve discovered.’ Todoroki placed it back in the counter, he looked over at you.

“Are you going to eat it now?” You shook your head.

“Maybe later, I already ate something…I made some smoothie if you want some” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from grinning. He nodded, you nodded as well. You poured some of that green liquid into a cup. You handed it to him and bit your bottom lip. He looked at his cup before taking a sip, his face expression went from relaxed to disgusted. He gagged but still kept it in his mouth, he didn’t want to seem rude and spit it back out. You grinned

“Disgusting, huh? It’s a family recipe. I'm pretty sure grass taste better than shit” you chuckled

“You can spit it out-” he swallowed it, how can he swallow that? If someone were to give you that you would spit it on their face, why does he keep impressing you? First, he put out that damn fire that you always had trouble putting out, and now he swallows one of the most disgusting thing humankind can ever imagine…he’s really cool. You smiled

“You want some more? There’s more where that came from” you joked, he shook his head and wiped his mouth with his hands, probably trying to take the disgusting flavor out of his lips. You smiled and went to the fridge, you took out a water bottle and handed it to him. He immediately drank the water. Your gaze fell, you started to remember what you said in your dream about him, how you compared todoroki with his father and yours. He’s nothing like them, he’ll never be like them…

“What happened?” His voice took you out of your thought. You looked over and saw him near the place you threw that plate.

“Oh…um…I accidentally dropped it” you said as you walked over to where he was, he squatted down and picked up a piece.

“Is this real marble?” he asked. you scratched your head

“Yeah…you would think it would be unbreakable If it cost so much, huh?” He looked over at you. You blushed

“Your parents won't get mad?” He asked. You shrugged and began to collect all the broken pieces.

“I'm pretty sure they will.” you swiftly stopped what you were doing. All of a sudden you started to feel down. Maybe its time to tell him who you really are, why you’re like this. Maybe if you tell him he’ll stop talking to you, its better that way...

“Todoroki, I have to tell you something... I think it’s only fair since you told me about youself” you whispered, he looked at you but your gaze was still staring down.

“I-um...ever since I was a little girl I’ve always had these ‘dark’ thoughts. Thoughts kids shouldn’t even think about...most kids wish to be like their favorite hero, I'm pretty sure even you dreamt of becoming like your favorite hero...but I always dreamt of becoming a villain. The way they made people feel fear was something I always dreamt of doing one day. Until recently...” you started to fiddle with your fingers, you never told anyone about this, but all the weight you once felt on your chest began to vanish

“Growing up I never had a ‘normal’ childhood. My father isolated me from the rest of the kids, aside from that I’ve spent my childhood training with my dad, you would think having a mother would stop your father from taking things too far...but she never did. Now that I think about it she never showed me much love, but she never put me through all that training my father did, so I don't have anything against her...my father though... I despise him, he pushes me to the point I break. All those days I’ve spent training with him, all those nights I cried myself to sleep, all those times I cried for my mom to tell him to stop are all engraved in my mind. Til this day I have to live with that, with him. He pushes me to the point I pass out from exhaustion or dehydration. When you guys were attacked I was absent because he pushed me to my limit, I would say he pushed me beyond my limit.” you started to ball your fist, your jaw locked.

“My mother tells me he does this out of ‘love’. If this is how love is I want no part of it” your tone was filled with anger. You squinted your eyes shut to keep your tears from coming out, you never thought talking to someone about it could make you feel so much pain. All those years of holding on to this anger and sadness could break anyone. You slightly jumped when you felt a pair of hands hold yours. You opened your eyes and saw todoroki holding your hands, his thumbs brushed softly against your bruised knuckles.

“You’ve been scarred too deep, I could tell from the first day I saw you. You and I share similar pain...but your pain is so much deeper than mine...I had my mother that was so loving... but you were so alone. If I didn’t have her I would’ve as well turned to admiring villains...my mother once told me I'm not bound by his blood, that I should decide who I truly want to become and be all I can be. At that moment I knew who I wanted to become, and it will be nothing like my father. If you think becoming a villain is something you truly want to become...then I can’t stop you. But I would dread the time I come face to face with you because I don't think I would be capable of fighting against you...nor would I want to see you get hurt...” he paused he looked away from you, he was hesitant for a second before continuing

“Because...because I’ve fallen in love with you...(y/n)”

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#shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #Shouto #todoroki shouto #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #shouto x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha todoroki #bnha bakugou #fanfic #mha bakugou #mha todoroki

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